


In-Between

by sigynstark



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Blood, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Celebrities, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, Reader-Insert, Rock Stars, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 41,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigynstark/pseuds/sigynstark
Summary: "Burn like a slave,Churn like a cog,We are caged in simulations....this means warWith your Creator."____________________________I'll be honest. I went to a Muse concert 28th May, and I'm still under it's influence. It was A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.. I absolutely loved it! I cried all the time and sang every song they played. XD It was PERFECT!This is just a story I couldn't get out of my head ever since then. This is purely fiction! I don't get money for writing this, I don't own Muse (Matt Bellamy-Dom Howard-Chris Wolstenholme), and my deepest respect to all of those who work on their music and shows, they're all truly inspiring!Hope you love Muse just as much as I do. Happy reading!





	1. M E M O R Y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is my second language, do keep this in mind, please!

**Chapter One**

**____________**

**M E M O R Y**

 

The concert, as always, was a blast. Matthew Bellamy waved goodbye to the fans in the arena, and walked to the backstage to refresh himself. Tiredly, he decided to rest a bit in the tourbus, and to his surprise, he fell asleep quite easily.

What happened next was not expected.

He woke up, but the interior of the tourbus was gone. Instead, he saw darkness around himself, just the one he saw in Stranger Things when Eleven tried to check up on people. He turned around frantically and yelled for his friends. Nobody replied. Be as it may, this was a scary experience.

"Where am I?!"

He yelled as he spun on his heels. There was nothing but darkness. Suddenly, a mechanical voice, dragged syllable by syllable, answered him:

"Fear not."

He spun again, and noticed a woman standing nearby. She had a white garment on, she was barefoot and she seemed to be short. She silently walked to the table and chair which manifested out of black smoke nearby her; and she sat down.

Matt stared. Was this a nightmare? Delusion? Furrowing his brows, he slowly walked closer to the table. The woman had bright white hair, and it seemed like it was radiating light. She turned her head to the side as she examined him, just as he examined her; her face looked perfect, she was as pale as an albino, but her eyes were striking blue, as bright as a neon. Her pupils widened slightly. She seemed to be human... and yet... she seemed not to be human.

Matt stared at her for long seconds, and she waited patiently for him to process what he saw. Then, he drew a sharp breath.

"Who are you?"

The woman's soft lips moved, forming a gentle smile.

"I am Memory", she replied, just as she talked before, she drew the words long as if she was a robot. Matt narrowed his eyes, thinking this was impossible.

"Memory?" He echoed. Memory slowly bowed her head without breaking eyecontact. Matt shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. "Memory of what?"

"Everything." She murmured. When Matt visibly didn't understand, she decided she'd explain more. "I am which always have been, which existed before you and your kind, before your planet was born. I was lonely in my existence, so I have created. I am what your kind calls God."

Matt stared at her bewildered. He took half a step back.

"Where am I?" He asked in a shaky tone.

"In-between."

The singer visibly paled.

"Am I dead?"

Memory shook her head still with the reassuring smile.

"No. I merely pulled you out of your physical existence and froze time in the universes while you are here. You will not age until I release you back to your timeline."

"Why?"

"Because I need your help."

Matt blinked and shifted closer to the table a bit.  _I am totally drugged._

"My help? Why my help?"

"You have inspired one of your devoted fans." Memory's smile faded. "And she broke into my realm."

**_Definitely_ ** _drugged._

"Is that— how is that possible?"

"Your kind is restricted. It is impossible to reach my realm with your physical bodies. Your life essence, something which you call a soul, though, can get in touch with my plane. I hear you whenever you think of your Creator, and I aid you when you wish to Remember. I am your Memory, I am the Memory of all living creatures. I am what inspires you and moves you forward. I am what always have been... I am your Past."

Matt swallowed heavily, but couldn't utter a word. Memory tilted her head as she observed him.

"Your work is not yet done in your world, and I will release you back once you are done with the task I am giving you."

"Task?" Matt croaked.

"I am asking you to find your fan and bring her back to your realm."

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Why can't you do it if you're so powerful?"

Memory smiled a sad smile. Her blue eyes shone brighter for a moment.

"She is searching for me and she wants to shut me down, to exterminate me." She replied calmly. "Can you imagine what would happen if the Memory, if the Past is erased in your world?"

Matt shuddered. No, he didn't want to imagine... but he could.

"Chaos?"

"More than that. Total destruction. Without me, you are but an empty husk with no purpose. If I am gone, you all would cease to exist. Imagine me as the operating system, and your world as a running software." She paused. "Trillions of billions of life I created and let grow on their own would lose everything they built up. Just imagine what would happen if a human only forgot how to read. Or talk. Or didn't remember how to fly an airplane or how to take care of a nuclear reactor." Memory lowered her head and closed her eyes. "It is my fault. There was a glitch in the system."

"A glitch?" Matt arched a brow.

"Yes", Memory looked up. "You."

That made the man crack up, but his laughter was short lived when he saw Memory did not joke.

"Me?"

"You create from scratch as I do. But what you did not know was that you could inspire people to precisely look for me. Your music is just one thing, Matthew Bellamy... the message is much more important. She knew what to look for, and she could squeeze her soul inside my realm. I have been trying to discover how was that done, so I can prevent this from happening again. Now, she is lost. My realm is bigger than you could possibly imagine, and there are a lot of creatures which would undoubtedly do harm to her. As she is a part of me and I am a part of her, her imminent death in my own realm would do irreparable damage to me. She is still alive, I am certain, and I had to risk it by bringing you here." She paused. "Fix your mistake, or else we all will cease to be."

"Why is it my mistake? Why do I have to do this myself?" The rockstar beckoned.

"Your creation drew her here. You inspired her. She is here because of you." Memory noticed how shakily Matt breathed in, and the otherworldly being shook her head. "She will only listen to you to stop her dangerous quest, no one else. Only you can bring her back to your realm."

"Why? She must have someone she knows, choose her boyfriend, or parents, or—"

"There is no other soul in your world she cares about. And even though I am powerful, my attempts were in vain to turn her back." Memory shook her head again. "She is devoted. And she is headstrong. Find this rogue, and bring her back safely. We all win with this."

"What is hidden in your realm which are so dangerous?"

Memory sighed.

"The creations I did not want to release in any realm. We, creators, all have draft works; just as you record a song over and over again, I, too, tried to discover new things. My existence is a lonely one. I wished to make realms colourful and exciting. But there are those creations which would make too much harm to any realm... those are hidden here."

"Why not make them disappear?"

"As I have already mentioned, everything I create has a bit of me inside of them and I have a bit of them inside of me. I am a Creator. Not an Exterminator. I lack that trait for a reason."

"Then why do we grow old and die? Why don't we live forever?"

"If you lived forever, you would miss the entire point of your existence. I do know how does it feel to live forever, and I would not wish it up on another creature. I experimented with it. Yes, I did bestow immortality on some creatures. But I regretted, because that drove them to a dangerous, bitter, lonely, miserable path. I disliked to see that my creations suffered, so I have brought them here in my realm. Amoung other... experiments."

Matt was thinking for a few seconds.

"And if I fail? If she dies before I get to her?"

Memory remained silent for a few seconds before she replied calmly.

"Then we lose our Past, our Present, our Future... we lose ourselves."


	2. P R E P A R E

**Chapter Two**

**____________**

**P R E P A R E**

 

Your (y/e/c) eyes stared off into the distance. Huffing, you stroke a lock of your (y/h/c) hair out of your forehead, and you pushed yourself up to your knees.

 _It's awfully quiet_ , you think to yourself.

You've lost the count of hours and days you've spent in this wretched place. Your watch froze and refused to work once you woke up here, your phone had no signal and your battery ran out... last night? A few hours ago? Everything was blurry.

And it was blurry for a reason.

The first time you've checked your surroundings you realised you were trapped in a broken down building some strange animals created. They didn't hear and didn't see you, but you were certain that if they did, you wouldn't live for long.

They were at least two meter tall, and their three arms were so long they reached the ground. Their arms ended in three long metal claws. Their body looked like it was made of pitch black silk and you couldn't see any kind of head on their bodies.

This frightened you.

You saw two of them getting into a fight and one of them slashed the other into tiny pieces as it screamed in an unholy fashion. They did have mouths and vocal cords, after all.

You had to press yourself to the dirty ground with your hand on your mouth to muffle your frightened noises at their shrieks.

It's been too long you had to hide here.

And you just had to realise that none of your needs depleted. You didn't get sleepy, hungry, thirsty, you didn't even need to go to toilet. Which was a blessing, even if it was a little scary. The things around you were scarier, and if you had to sleep somewhere you'd be totally doomed.

Not like you weren't, either way.

These creatures you decided to call Silkrazor gathered around the building and lingered for who knew how long. But you were persistent. You'd reach the source of the simulations and you'd shut it down once and for all. If all that happened were simulations, then nothing was real; there was no free will, no freedom, just an already paved out path for everyone in their lives.

It wasn't real. Nothing was real. Not your planet, your country, your city, your home, yourself.

You couldn't believe it, but Muse was right. They were bloody right.

Nothing was true what you believed until now.

You decided some agonizingly long time later that you had to move. Silently, you sneaked through the building and it's long corridors, your heart beating in your throat, you slowly made your way outside. As most of the physical things didn't work as they usually did, you felt incredibly hot, but you did not sweat. You weren't sure you wouldn't bleed if you were cut to pieces by a Silkrazor.

Sneaking worked like a charm. You decided to hide behind the debris; some looked like bones. You've seen bones in all sorts of strange forms and sizes. If you weren't frightened enough, now your fears were boosted. A lot.

Sneaking away you realised the Silkrazors didn't follow you, didn't notice you. They remained where they were; lingering around the ruins. You let out a shaky breath and continued your journey.

~*~

Your legs grew tired from walking as you paced through a lot of debris-filled area. You were awfully alone; even more as you were in the life you thought real. Without hesitation, you doubled your efforts into running, checking if there were any creatures around... you were in luck.

You were alone.

~*~

Matt noticed some light up front.

He realised he'd been walking in this dark corridor for too long, and now that he saw this light at the end of it, he couldn't get the odd thought out of his mind that he was on the path to the first creations of Memory.

He was not wrong.

The first creatures he'd found in a room filled with light were made of shining rays; pulsing, hovering in the shape of an orb, about one and a half meters above the ground. Matt stopped, a bit startled, when one of those orbs floated near him. The thought of these things being hostile froze him in spot. To his surprise, he heard a quiet laughter and a friendly voice filled the air.

"I will not cause you any harm." The orb in front of him reassured Matt, "we are the Architects. We are the first creations of the One."

Matt swallowed and observed the other orbs... then he realised that around the ceiling, in fact, was no ceiling, there were only floating orbs. Tens of thousands of them. He swallowed nervously.

"I've got to find someone", he explained, "can you help?"

"We know, and we can. Follow us." Matt silently followed the flying orbs and they led him to a white table. He stopped nearby. "You can not go out there unprepared. The dangers you will face could kill you... or make you stay here while your physical body decays." Matt shuddered and made a mental note that he was dreaming one extremely ridiculous nightmare right now. "Place your hands on the table and arm yourself with everything you need. Means of transportation, guiding system, weapons." At the man's visible confusion, the orb continued. "Those creations the One wished to stay here can be harmed in order to get to your goal. She, the Rogue, on the other hand, must not be harmed. Remember this, Traveler. She must remain unharmed."

"What happens if I can't get to her in time?" He questioned.

"Your world is at risk. The One seeped into her as she traveled here; the One is within that void which was left when she came. If her life essence is extinguished, the One in her body will decay, and that will cause some complications."

Matt grew annoyed that nobody here talked in understandable sentences.

"What sort of complications?" He asked, annoyed.

"If that part of the One decays with the Rogue's body, a powerful energy blast will consume universes."

"So, in short, Big Bang?"

"Very Big Bang."

Matt cursed under his breath.  _Wonderful. Just wonderful._ The orb floated closer to the table.

"Come. Arm yourself."

Matt hesitated for a moment before he stepped closer; thoughts of useful equipments spun around in his mind. What would be really useful?

A tracking device would do nicely. Some sort of GPS which he could tune to anything he wanted; what if he needed to find his way back here once he found her? He placed his hands on the table as instructed and pictured sunglasses — very similar to the ones he used during shows. In his mind, it was well-designed, fancy, and functional. A moment later, what he imagined appeared on the table.

"Whoa!" He suddenly took a step back, then reached back out and picked up the sunglasses. Observing it, it turned out that the GPS-like system was built in; as he put it on, he immediately saw the direction he needed... to find you.

Matt smirked.  _This will be easier than I thought._

Secondly, he decided he'd need a weapon. Judging by Memory's description and the warnings of this orb, there really must be some not-so-nice beings out there, and he'd need to be prepared for them.

The first thought of having a weapon made him think of a gun, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to shoot well. He had little to no practice; trying some games in an arcade and 'firing' a plastic water gun was very different.

But, he figured, it  _could be_  easy — as easy as using a plastic water gun. Instead of water, maybe... laser beams as in Star Wars? He grinned to himself. That'd be so cool. And if this was a dream, then why not?

He put his hands on the table again, and a laser gun he imagined appeared immediately. Again, it was well-designed and functional. And of course, fancy. Pitch black metal with a dark purple led line from the trigger to the barrel. He designed it to be charged with air. In this dream, it seemed everything was possible and he'd make it count.

Once that was brought up in his arms — it was a bit heavy —, he turned to the orb with a dark grin.

"Do you have a bigger table?"


	3. R O G U E

**Chapter Three**

**__________**

**R O G U E**

 

Time has passed without any event.

You decided it was still much more interesting than your life on everyone's most precious Earth. Working in a depot and doing nothing but lifting boxes, bringing them out to the shop, filling the shelves was boring enough that you cherished walking around in this place you decided to call Graveyard.

It really looked like one. Various bones and strange creations were scattered around... for miles. You weren't sure it was safe to trespass, but you had to go forward; and there was no way you'd go back to bypass the Silkrazors.

Quietly, you hummed to yourself and sometimes swung the baseball bat you've brought to pass the time. You've entertained yourself with some inner music, which, strangely enough, was some stupid pop music you've usually heard in the store. But, it was even worse... Christmas music.

You snorted in disbelief. Every time Christmas came around in the store, you bloody hated the same songs going over and over again. Though, those were better than your thoughts.

Everything was better than to stay with your thoughts.

Your sweetheart used to tell you you fell into melancholy too easily, and it was hard to move you out of it. He said you always stuck in it as if it was some sort of trap. You didn't really agree; even if you had to admit that locking yourself up on your days off in your bedroom and done nothing but paint looked a bit sad. And the paintings themselves! They were dark and emotional, betraying you've had a lot of bad things going on inside.

That was before the tragedy happened.

In the past few months you buried yourself in your job, and you tried not to have anything to think about as it'd make things much worse for you. It wasn't easy... and it was shitty that right now all you could of was Christmas songs. You'd prefer not thinking of them at all.

You forced yourself to think of something else.

Fat chance.

Your last Christmas was the worst Christmas you ever had. Even remembering the circumstances and emotional state you were in brought tears in your eyes. Weirdly enough, you didn't sweat, but you've felt the tears which ran down on your face.

 _Life's shit,_  you thought as you angrily wiped down the tears of your cheeks,  _but at least I'll be able to fix it._

~*~

The car was just as fancy as the gun and the sunglasses. Basically he imagined the design they used in their Dark Side video clip; and it worked like a charm.

The orbs warned him that the further away he was from Memory, the worse creations he'd find, the most dangerous ones were farther away. Only needing to think about what he wanted to find here, he got exact directions from his sunglasses to find you.

This totally felt like what the aforementioned video clip looked like, except this felt real and he wasn't in front of a green screen... and he sensed that this was more than just a dream.

There were parts his mind could make up, alright. He always had a wild imagination.

But then there were things which he clearly wasn't able to make up. Memory and the orbs, for instance.

He'd tried his best not to think too much about himself and his life, realising that being pulled so forcefully out of it made him miss the tour, his friends, the music... he missed talking to his fiancée.

Once he found you, he'd bring you right back home, so you could both move on with your lives. All in all, Matt was positive he'd be able to persuade you to go with him, and if he couldn't, he'd just drag you back to your realm, doesn't matter how much fight you put up. As he designed the gun to have a stun mode, he'd definitely use that to get out of bad situations.

He had no idea how worse this could get. After all, if this was a nightmare, and if his imagination, which, he knew was wild enough, would run even wilder, things were pretty shit. It was already a miracle he didn't wake up.

The Architects told him there were sectors, and his sunglasses told him which sector he bypassed. For such a long time, nothing basically happened; he drove down a long, dark corridor without seeing anything else except the walls, but sometimes he felt like he was being watched, and he couldn't get that unnerving thought out of his mind that indeed, something was observing him.

Perhaps it was Memory. He wasn't sure it couldn't get to him somehow.

Thinking of this as a ridiculous, lunatic dream, the singer passed on and played coy to his mind; figuring that following the ideas his brain presented in such a way would prove beneficial. If all else fails, he could write songs of this.

~*~

He realised there was no way he could make this up.

For instance, Sector 135 was filled with screeching creatures which had three incredibly ugly heads, various tentacles, claws and fangs in the wrong places and if this wasn't enough – they had _wings_.

First they were scared of the car which sped up to impossible speed and flew out of the way. Then they got bolder and started to pursue it. Matt took this into consideration when he created the car; that what if he met creatures strong enough to take it apart? This way, he purposefully imagined a metal strong enough to withstand an apocalypse. Still, as the things flew after him and tried to block his way, his fingers tightened on the wheel.

 _This is just a nightmare,_ he kept telling himself, _even if I die here, I'll wake up in reality._

He sped out of Sector 135 and met with silence and darkness once again.

~*~

You tried your best not to cry when you saw a human-like settlement. You forced your tears back when you found out that actual, humanoid beings lived there; pale, sick looking people in small huts made of the debris around.

"Hello!" You greeted them, and they stared at you silently. "I can't believe I've met another human around, I'm so glad you're here. Could you point me to the direction of the chief of this place?"

They continued to stare at you. They had dark cloaks on which covered them from neck to toe, and they had dark circles around their eyes. For some reason, this unnerved you. A few women and a few men of them looked positively startling, and the thought of them being incredibly hungry crossed your mind.

 _Hungry for what?_ You wondered, until the moment one of them hissed at you. You raised your hands in surrender; you wouldn't act hostile. Not in this situation. The baseball bat was strapped to your backpack, but you'd need only one movement to free it. But… would you be swift enough?

"I mean no harm", you said clearly, but the humanoids clearly did not understand you. They slowly approached, but you didn't see them taking any steps. The hairs at the back of your head stood up. "I am friend." You put your hands over your heart. "Friend", you repeated as calmly as you could.

The woman closest to you opened her mouth and pulled her lips back on her teeth. You stared at her in total, complete horror. Her teeth were long and sharp, sharper than anything you've ever seen, and most of them were rotten. Fear gripped your gut as she whispered a word and shifted closer to you.

" **Food**."

You took several quick steps back and they literally flew above the ground towards you, as they still didn't look like they actually stepped. The word she uttered was repeated in countless voices around you and more humanoids emerged from the huts.

" _Food,_ food, _food,_ **food,** _food, **food,** **FOOD**!_"

New voices joined the scariest crescendo you've ever heard.

"Ssskin, **bonesss,** _flesh_ , blood, _blood,_ **_BLOOD!_** "

You reached back and grabbed your bat, pulled it free and swung it towards the nearest humanoid. It didn't affect him at all, he bared his pointy teeth at you and proceeded coming closer to you. Your legs grew weak and you stumbled in some debris, then fell as unceremoniously as possible as the creatures gathered around you. Something grabbed your ankle and you let out a scream as you kicked and tried to escape, but the fingers felt like they were a cuff, holding you in an iron grip.

You realised you were dead.


	4. M E E T I N G

**Chapter Four**

**____________**

**M E E T I N G**

Your screams doubled in intensity when a hand, ever so gently, moved to your neck and softly turned your head up. Frightened, you stared in the face of the pale woman who said first you were food, and other hands gently removed the baseball bat from your hand and restricted your thrashing around to nothing.

" _Tearsss_ ", she hissed above you and you smelled her breath which was almost enough to get you passed out. " **Hot**."

 _Not like this, please, not like this,_ you begged to someone, anyone, but your pleas couldn't be heard by anyone.

Suddenly, light filled up the area; unnaturally blinding light. The humanoids howled and you were released immediately. You stared up in shock and saw they retreated to their huts as a car screeched to a halt right in front of you, only a few meters away from your body.

**"GET IN THE CAR!"**

The man's voice which snapped at you, and the shock seemed to push energy in your shaking limbs. You quickly got up, picked up your bat, grabbed the passenger seat of the car, and hopped in after opening it without a question.

Dying in a car crash or by someone's hand who rescued you sounded much better than to be eaten alive, thank you very much.

The man didn't wait for any words from you, he immediately sped up the car again, leaving the still screaming and howling pale humanoids at their huts, barely making any effort to follow the shiny device. You suddenly turned and stared back at them through the window; the unusually tight grip around your intestines loosened.

You still felt like you'd throw up at any moment.

"Buckle yourself up", Matt barked, not even looking at you.

You finally turned your head back to the side as you leaned back in the seat, and you froze immediately. ** _Is this…? Impossible._** When he sensed you didn't move just stared at him, he visibly snarled. The sunglasses were pushed back up in his wild hair; he'd found you, he wouldn't need them anymore.

" **Buckle. Up.** "

For some weird reason his bossing around snapped you out of your startled state and you snorted.

" ** _You_** buckle up", you pointed it out and he finally glanced at you.

Some strange feeling, again, gripped your intestines. It wasn't fear, but it was connected to the striking blue orbs of his. Did this car just get ten times hotter?

" **Now.** "

That was all he said. And your hand finally moved to put your seat belt on.

"Happy?" You scowled as you snapped it in place.

"Tremendously", came the annoyed reply as he turned his head back to look at the road.

 _Now, what should I do with her,_ he wondered as he put on his seat belt too, before you started telling him again. Memory said to find you, but what to do with you once that was done? He almost couldn't believe how you reacted to him; Memory told you that you were a 'devoted fan' of his, and yet you acted like an angry child. He reached up and moved his sunglasses down to 'ask' it for his next direction. It'd tell him what to do. Find a purpose with it was easy enough… and it already showed a way, right forward.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You finally broke the silence as you watched him placing the sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose.

"I've been contacted to find you."

"Contacted by who?" You furrowed your brows as you observed his face. "I didn't tell anyone I'd come here."

Matt turned his head to look at you through his sunglasses and couldn't decide how much he should tell you.

"By the one who made this place", he decided to tell the truth.

"The one who runs the simulations?"

He sensed the darkness in your tone, but still, he decided to tell the truth again.

"Yes."

You leaned back with a sigh. Of course. You were a virus in the system, a glitch that had to be corrected, and to send your favourite singer who inspired you to find this place was just the best that thing could ever do. Clearly, you've been observed, and since you had no one else who made an impact on your life in the past months, bringing him here seemed to be a logical move. You stared out at the darkness for a few seconds.

"Are you taking me to it?"

You asked, genuinely hoping he would. This time, he sensed your hopeful tone, he picked it up even if you tried to hide it, and this time, he knew he'd need to lie so you'd come with him. He glanced at you again and studied your face. _Why is she so keen on doing this impossible task?_

"Yes." His word was quiet and he had to force the next sentence out of himself to mislead you as he glanced back at the road. "We'll shut it down."

You breathed in relief.

"Good. I'd hoped if anyone here knew what was going on, they'd be on my side. I'm so happy you see how bad this is. After all, we are caged in simulations."

Matt glanced at you again and silently swallowed. His sunglasses which he asked without words where to take you led you both further away from Memory, and lying to you actually felt very, very wrong.

It didn't make things better to see how hopeful and happy you seemed to be that he was on your side.

But he had to pretend.

If he had to choose between your wrath and Memory's, he'd choose yours any day.

~*~

"Do you have any family?"

His words caught you off guard as you stared into the nothingness. A few years ago you would've jumped out of your skin from happiness if you knew you'd be travelling in the same car with Matthew Bellamy, the greatest mind who ever wrote lyrics and composed music, according to you, anyway… and now, the purpose which led you here engulfed it all of your senses in silence and darkness. In that small space you realised that he was just as much of a human as you were, and that he was in alien territory just like you. Something about that made you think of him more easily. You were together in this, partners for the greater good, and you weren't clouded by his fame and fortune.

But the question which left him much, much time later after he last talked to you snapped you out of your peaceful state. You visibly paled, and your voice was quiet and croaked as you didn't use it in the past few hours.

"No."

Matt decided not to press on this matter but he pushed the sunglasses up on his head again and glanced at you. Furrowing his brows, he just couldn't put a finger on why were you so cold with him; if he could believe anything that Memory said – and until now, everything proved that she didn't lie at all –, you were supposed to at least _like_ him… but each time he tried to start a conversation (which, by the way, was interesting, given the fact you were a total stranger and he had no idea what he'd need to do with you), he met a solid, impassable ice wall you've pulled up around yourself. Even now, you were staring out of the window on your side, your arms were around yourself as if you could shield yourself from his gaze. You couldn't, but he saw you tried. He glanced back at the road for a few seconds before he turned his attention back to you.

"No one?"

This time, you finally looked at him. He didn't know why, but the way your eyes looked at him clenched his heart. Your (y/e/c) orbs were filled with so much pain; and it bothered him that he had absolutely no idea what happened to you.

"No one." You snapped angrily. "And stop asking."

That made him glance back at the road with furrowed brows. You weren't even stoic to his presence, you were straight _hostile_. What did he do to deserve this?

"Sorry", he managed to push through his teeth.

You silently observed his face. From this close, you couldn't believe how blue his eyes were and how big his nose was. _Yes_ , you found him handsome, but that nose… **_gosh._** And his wild hair… how old was he now? Forty-ish? Would he ever grow out of this hairstyle or was this how he wanted to stay up until he lost all of his hair? The thought made you smile, finally. And you suddenly noticed you haven't smiled in months. You stared out of the window again.

Matt contemplated talking again, only to be possibly pushed back at the start line by you again. Be as it may, it seemed for some reason that he couldn't get you out of his thoughts. You were _interesting_. If you could end up here all by yourself, you had to know something which no one did, and that was quite impressive. He never even suspected what he wrote in his lyrics could be real… that this was all true and that he'd inspire someone to actually search for the truth and find it. Of course, he wasn't sure the simulation part was true, and if he wanted to be honest, he hoped that wasn't true.

He glanced at you again. He observed for a few moments how your (y/h/c) fell in your face, and silently took in your obviously not-in-the-mood-to-talk body language. But he couldn't help himself. He's been driving for who knew how long and he was bored. As cool as this car he dreamed up was, he somehow totally missed out the music system. Well… he was thinking about making it fast and strong, at least…

"Do you know who am I?" He asked, because you didn't know he knew you did.

"Yes", you replied curtly.

"Do you have a favourite album we've made?"

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out the question, and felt immediately that his cheeks started to redden. Gosh, why did he sound desperate to his own ears? When would he ever try so desperately to strike a conversation with anyone, especially a fan of his own?

This time, it was you who furrowed her brows. You glanced back at Matt who seemed like he was concentrating on the road before you both, and you noticed the blush that started to spread on his cheeks.

"I love everything you've made so far", you replied gently and watched his reactions.

To your utter delight, he seemed to blush further.

"That's uh… great."

You've never felt so giddy in so long that it felt totally, utterly alien to you. The sensations which his expression and reaction brought you almost made you cry. You realised in that moment that up until now, you didn't even live at all.

You died months ago.

And now, he seemed like he was bringing you back from the dead.


	5. I N S T I N C T

**Chapter Five**

**_____________**

**I N S T I N C T**

"So, what's your name?"

You furrowed your brows at his question. He was quiet for at least thirty minutes – you had to guess – and now he asks this? You bypassed impossibly huge mountains until now, but there was nothing but dirt, and you didn't see anything anyway because only the car gave light. You could only see the road. This was the most boring journey you've ever had.

All in all, you didn't answer his question, just glanced at him again. He looked drained and bored. Just as you felt.

"How come you don't know? The one who sent after me didn't tell you?"

"She called you the 'Rogue'."

You snorted, then rolled your eyes.

"Rogue", you echoed. Actually, you sort of liked it. "Hmm."

"But I want to know your real name."

"Why?" At your question, Matt shrugged. He had no idea why was it important to him. You shrugged, too. "Rogue is good enough", you decided and he glanced at you, but you were looking forward as some light and colour finally came in your view. "Wait. I want to check this out."

The car slowed and stopped before some sort of blue grass and Matt was tempted to tell you to think twice before you left the car and checked the strange looking plant out, but you were already outside and walked to the closest ones. He cursed under his breath and got out himself, picking up his rifle from the back seat just to be safe.

"I don't like this", he said and glanced out at the field filled with the blue grass. There was an orb similar to the ones he saw in that white room, except this looked sturdier. At least it gave you some light to see, apart from the car's headlights. You glanced up at Matt for a moment and noticed that he indeed looked quite awesome in that simple white shirt, leather jacket and jeans… weirdly, the gun – or more like, rifle – only made him look more awesome… "We should get back in the car."

You shook your head – _why is he so jumpy?_ – and glanced back down at the plant, then picked up some dirt and let it fall on the grass. In a blink, the grass grew to an impossibly long length and as it resembled a tentacle now, it grabbed your wrist tightly. You cried out and fell backwards on your butt.

Matt immediately saw what was wrong and for some reason – maybe the adrenaline, or fear – he decided to aim and shoot at the blue tentacle which held you so tight that it nearly broke your arm. A flash of purple light and the tentacle released you. You quickly climbed backwards on your hands and feet as the blue grass retreated.

" **CAR!** " Matt shouted and you agreed.

You scrambled to your feet and ran two meters when you heard his muffled groan. Turning back you saw he was grabbed by his ankle and was pulled backwards, which made him tackle and fall on his stomach, the rifle fell out of his hands and slid on the ground to your feet.

"Go!" He yelled.

You didn't even think, just leaned down and picked up the rifle, then walked right back and shot the tentacles just as he did, careful not to shoot him in the process. Once he was released he quickly retreated too, and you leaned down and grabbed his arm to help him get away, all the while keeping the rifle up and ready to shoot at the nasty grass.

You've felt his tight grip back on your own arm in return, pulling you backwards as you stared in awe at the plant. It started to get itself together, and it started to grow… it slowly… _emerged from the ground?_

"We have to go! **NOW!** " Matt yelled when he felt you didn't budge.

With a moment of hesitation you followed him, then got in the car on your side, buckling up as fast as you could as he swiftly started the car up again. A giant hand made of that strange blue tentacle-grass reached out and tried to catch the car as it rolled backwards. You screamed, then laughed.

You weren't bored anymore.

"It's fucking not funny!" Matt shouted as he turned the wheel around in an insane manner, making the car whip around immediately.

For some reason, you laughed again, quite hysterically; the sound of panic in his tone in your ears was enough to think of yourself as an insolent, insane woman for coming here. _Of course_ that thing would have guards around itself! How could you be so stupid??

Meanwhile, you turned around and stared back out through the back window. There was nothing but the blue grass, despite the fact it started to emerge a few seconds before.

"We can't go that way", you concluded and Matt let out an impossibly colourful chain of swear words. You glanced back at his face and he was still as white as snow, which made you giggle again. He shot you a killer look, and you froze. "What?"

"Why **_the_** **_fuck_** are you laughing?! Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish??"

You stared at his face which was distorted with anger, and the remainder of the smile disappeared from your face.

"Maybe I do."

Your quiet answer calmed him down somewhat, and he let out a quiet huff as he stared at the road again.

"Don't get out of this fucking car. Do you know why?" He angrily snapped his sunglasses back on his face. At least his hand wasn't shaking and he was thankful for that. "Because I **don't** want to fucking die here."

You paused for long enough for him to cool down a bit, and then, you finally noted:

"You saved me."

You saw he clenched his jaw and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. He didn't say anything at first and you thought he'd be silent forever.

"Yes." He grunted at last. "I did."

"Why?"

He reached for his sunglasses to toss them up in his hair before he looked at you.

"It was instinct."

You continued to stare at his face even as he concentrated on the road again.

"You don't even know me."

"No."

"I'm a total stranger to you."

"Yes."

"But you saved my life."

"Yes."

"Why?"

He glanced at you again.

And he couldn't reply.

You were right, he didn't even know you, he didn't even know your name, but you were both stuck in this mess and he couldn't let you simply suffocate in the grasp of that— whatever that was.

"You saved me, too."

At his totally calm words you sighed. Of course you did. You'd be probably buried six feet deep if this man never wrote music.

"Don't mention it."

"You should've ran away."

You snorted as you glanced at him.

"Are you an idiot?" You asked in a teasing tone.

Matt finally smiled. Then you both started to laugh quietly at the same moment.

 

His sunglasses let him know you were in Sector 184… and it looked like yet another graveyard. You were both very quiet as you bypassed the huge piles of trash… who knew what was scattered around.

"Is that—"

You muttered and pointed to something in the distance. It was! A giant skeleton made of metal.

"This place gives me the fucking creeps", he grunted back and added speed to your already very fast-moving vehicle.

"I wanted to ask", you furrowed your brows as you glanced back at him, "won't we run out of gas?"

Matt smirked at the road. Oh, that was the beauty of his own creation. And they were in a realm where it was evident creatures lived… the air must've been breathable. What did this car use? Exactly _that_. The air. This applied to the gun he made, too.

"No", he replied simply. "It's a sophisticated machine."

He glanced at you with a proud smile, and when his eyes met yours he felt unusual. You offered back a smile – at least, you wouldn't get lost here, you wouldn't need to walk – and the way you looked back at him made him pause for a moment. You were just wondering about the fact how you used to look at interviews with him, and that he came off some sort of dorky nerd; this was the thought that made you smile in the first place. You've smiled much more in this brief time with him than in the past six months. And he didn't even have to really try to _make_ you smile.

"Thank you", you suddenly said.

"For what?"

You didn't reply.


	6. B E T R A Y A L

**Chapter Six**

**_______________**

**B E T R A Y A L**

 

It looked like a storm cloud was above you both when you arrived at your final destination. To the edge of a chasm. There was nothing after the edge, only darkness.

"We arrived", he muttered, and you nodded.

Matt stopped the car and you got out, excited and determined, with the rifle in your hands.

Matt remained seated in the car alone and he stared forward through the sunglasses. The direction to his question what to do with you, where to bring you... they led...

**Down below.**

He slowly got out of the car and stopped near it, his hands in his jacket's pockets. That was when he received a message through his sunglasses.

_I'm going to watch. When she's falling, I'll send her back to her body._

He knew it was Memory who contacted him, and to his inner question what would happen to you, wouldn't that kill you, another message appeared.

_She will die either way. Don't worry about it._

But he did. The reply froze him, paled him, made him sick to his stomach. He didn't move, just watched you as you walked to the ledge and glanced down. You saw nothing but darkness.

"You're sure it's down there?" You asked, and by the time you uttered the last word, the truth finally dawned on you. You slowly turned to face Matt who just pushed the sunglasses up on his head as he used to do before he put his hand back in his pocket, along with the keys of the car. Your eyes met his. His expression was way too stoic. " _You lied_ ", you whispered.

You couldn't believe this. As you stared at Matt's face, you couldn't help but see how his expression changed; from his stoic state to one which told you he felt guilty.

But that mattered little now.

You gritted your teeth as tears filled your eyes and you got a tighter hold of the rifle — _his_ rifle. You raised it up and pointed the muzzle at his heart.

He stared at you, his blue eyes piercing you, but he didn't move and said nothing. Your throat tightened.

"Be very, very happy now", you whispered, choking on your tears, "because if you were anyone else, I'd shoot you without hesitation."

At this, Matt finally smiled, but even his smile was sad.

"I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen."

"This? What _'this'_?" Your arms didn't shake under the weight of the rifle, and you knew Matt saw your finger wasn't on the trigger. But he didn't underestimate you. He remained motionless. "You, pushing me down there?"

Despite the tight feeling in his chest, he vaguely wondered why he absolutely hated to see you cry, but masked it with with a click of his tongue and a roll of his eyes. This annoyed you.

"I never would've done that."

He disliked how slow you were. You both stared at each other and you took a step towards him. He stilled again.

"I know you wouldn't want the simulations to end." You said calmly and quietly as tear after tear rolled down on your cheeks. You didn't even try to cover them, there was no need. "You have everything anyone ever wanted."

"Really?" Matt arched a brow and this was another reaction that infuriated you.

"Yes, really."

"Our world is not a simulation."

"And how do you know?" You shifted your weight from your left foot to your right, holding the rifle still pointed at his chest. "Did _s_ _he_ tell you?" You read out of his expression that yes was the answer to this question. You shook your head in disbelief. "You're a bloody idiot." His face betrayed nothing as you approached him slowly. "She misled you. How couldn't she? She protects her precious work."

"You can't be sure that she lied to me."

His voice was surprisingly gentle and your face twitched with anger.

"And you can't be sure she didn't!" You shouted at him. "I understand  _you_  wouldn't want it to end if I'm right! You have everything, fortune, fame, family. If I had at least one of those I'd be happy too. But I don't. And many others don't. For most of us, life is **_Hell_**. And sometimes, occasionally, there'd be a little happiness. That's all we get. Crumbles."

He still didn't move and you were only a few meters away from him, the muzzle of the rifle about five inches away from his body. But he didn't look away from your face. He pretended the gun wasn't even there, because — and he had no idea why — he just had to know _why_ you did this. It was one thing to call him a liar. It was another to think everything he did on Earth was fake, that it was nothing but a game of a cruel taskmaster.

"Why are you so pissed?" He finally asked. "I get it, for most people, life's shit. Believe me, I've seen a lot of shit myself. People chasing their lust, stealing money to buy drugs." He paused. "Believe me when I say _I know_ what you mean. But what's _your_ reason?"

**_Your_ ** **reason?**

_Five days before Christmas. You were shopping with your family. Your fiance and your parents in the same car with you, and you were driving._

_You were all happily singing some Christmas songs. You looked forward to the celebration, even moreso because you knew you were expecting. The child growing_ _in you_ _was three months old and you and your fiance were excited to share the_ _big_ _news a few days later._

_What you got was a car crash and an empty hospital room on Boxing Day when you woke up._

_The doctor who came got bombarded with questions – where's your family? Your fiance? Your parents? And he had to answer you, and answer you truthfully, despite the condition you were in. He decided to be honest with you, and you couldn't get the truth out of your mind ever since then._

_"I'm so sorry, Miss (y/_ _l/_ _n), but only you survived the car crash." The normal reaction to this news, of course, was denial. And the doctor was gentle and patient with you. He informed you that yes, this was the case. When you tried to get up he placed a hand on your shoulder and you stared up in his face which burned in your mind. You've never seen anyone looking at you with such emotion. He grieved for you, even before you realised. "I'm sorry, Miss (y/_ _l/_ _n), it is not advised to get up right now. You've had a miscarriage. It's a miracle you're still alive."_

**Miracle** , he said. He had the audacity to call it a fucking **_miracle_**. If this was just a simulation, if anyone witnessed your suffering and knew about it and did nothing, then it was **_cruelty_**. This never should've happened, not this way, and even if it did, you should've died just the same!

You continued to stare at Matt's calm face and your own twitched with so much anger, so much hatred that he just had to know that whatever your reason was, it was way too heavy and way too painful. That unusual pain in his chest increased tenfold, but he pretended he felt nothing of it. He couldn't read your mind, only your expression, and it was quite telling… along with your index finger, which, suddenly, slipped on the trigger. Matt froze where he stood, and he was quite sure you'd shoot him without hesitation if he so much as twitched the wrong way.

"Do you think you know pain?" You asked him quietly, even bigger tears gathering in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. Your nostrils twitched with rage and you bared your teeth like an angry dog. You slowly shifted closer to him. "Do you think you know loss?"

"Everyone does", he replied quietly and you screamed at him.

" **No!** Not everyone does! Not like ** _I_** do!" The muzzle nearly touched him in the middle of his chest. "The keys."

Matt's lashes fluttered as he stared at you for a few seconds, without any signs of moving. When he spoke, his voice was still gentle.

"I'm not giving you the keys."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"You really are lucky", you whispered.

"Why? Because you won't kill me since I'm the singer of Muse?"

He noticed the emotions changed in your eyes. His brows furrowed for a moment when you smiled.

"No. Because I like you."

It happened so suddenly – he had no idea how could you move so swiftly, but it totally caught him off guard when you gripped the rifle as hard as you could, turned it halfway around, then swung it, hard, at his direction. It wasn't necessary to knock him out, but you succeeded doing that anyway when the butt of the rifle smashed against his cheek.

Your surroundings faded in and out, with only the two of you being present for a few moments. You quickly leaned down and tossed him on his back by his left shoulder, then reached in the pocket of his jacket and fished out the keys. You saw he gained his consciousness back rather quickly.

"No…" He muttered and got a weak hold of your wrist. "Don't—"

"Let me go", you hissed and yanked yourself out of his grip.

As you walked to the car he coughed and turned to look after you.

"Wait!" He called out, his voice deeper the pain. "You run—to your end!" You looked back at him, confused. Why was he trying to persuade you not to go? Why did he say this? Was he worried you'd do something stupid…? And if so, why was he worried? You were nobody to him. "She'll kill you—"

"And you helped her."

He pressed a hand to his jaw which still pulsed with pain. You felt horrible for hurting him.

"No!"

"You know", you opened the door of the car, "it's been nice to spend some time with you. I'm sorry it had to end this way.

"Please—don't go there!"

He wasn't afraid of you doing what you decided you'd do. He knew, he simply felt you wouldn't be able to fight off Memory… but he had no idea what would happen to you if she met you. Given the fact what the new direction was she'd given him, it seemed to him that she didn't care about you and the consequences anymore. She'd send you back, no matter the cost. And sending you back could end fatal. To you.

And as you got inside the car and sped away, he couldn't help but feel that he did not want that.


	7. C H A S E

**Chapter Seven**

**_________**

**C H A S E**

"Fuck!"

Matt cursed as he watched the car roll backwards with you in it, turn, then speed away. He cursed again when he realised he was left alone in the darkness, alone with nothing but the terrible feeling of failing Memory, and ultimately, failing you, himself and the world.

He found his glasses a few meters away, then got up with it, dusted himself off and looked around. The storm clouds released a few thunders; they were purple coloured, and an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach to join the tight feeling in his chest.

He felt shit.

Being alone here didn't bother him before he met you. Now it made him positively _anxious_. The throbbing pain ebbed in his cheek as he rubbed it, then he put his sunglasses on and wondered out loud.

"What the _hell_ should I do now?"

The sunglasses showed him a direction. He frowned, then shrugged and started walking. He had to stop to pause and put an arm around his chest a few times; that tightness didn't want to go away, it didn't cease or eased in intensity. It felt like he couldn't breathe properly, as if you kicked him a few times right before you even smashed his cheek with the rifle. Trying to ignore it, he glanced up, and what he saw up front was one of those metal skeletons you pointed out a while ago. The sunglasses showed him exactly how to get inside of one of them, then what buttons to press. He had to step into a human-shaped frame, and once all lights were green and gentle straps contracted around his wrists and ankles, torso and thighs, he raised his hand up.

So did the giant lying skeleton.

 _"No **fucking** way",_ he murmured, then forced the skeleton to slowly but surely, get up from where it was lying.

Glancing around and taking in his surroundings from up there, he noticed there was the small, tiny but shiny car speeding away… right to the direction you came from. You went much faster than he ever even dared to, and that was one another sign that you did not care at all if you survived this or not.

"Why the hell is she so determined?" He wondered to himself as he started to walk after you in a giant's steps.

 

Despite the fact you dared to go much faster than Matt did, you didn't dare to push that blue, shiny button, decorated with flames next to the stirring wheel, and you didn't push the accelerator to it's limit, either.

Then you noticed movement behind you in the mirror.

You stared back for a moment when you came to a straight part of the road, and your eyes widened with awe and shock.

 _"No **fucking** way!"_ You gasped, then turned back forward and pushed the accelerator just a little bit more than before.

You glanced up at the mirror again, and despite the fact that you were totally scared shitless by the giant skeleton walking after you casually, you also knew – you had no idea why, but you **_knew_** in your heart – it was Matt. It had to be. Who else could it be?

"Why the hell is he so determined?!" You asked yourself as you glanced at the mirror over and over again.

 

"I wonder if there's light somewhere", he muttered and the sunglasses showed him a button which he pressed and lo behold – there was light. Apparently, the skeleton's eye sockets had built-in huge bulbs, lighting up the section he was looking at. _The car._ "Now that's more like it!"

 

"Shit!"

You cried out when the light flooded your surroundings. It scared you too much again, as you were sure that this time, your precious, favourite singer would **not** be nice to you anymore. No. This reminded you of the chasing videos you saw in action movies, when the police had a chopper shine light on the car so the others would know where the culprit was, to catch them faster.

You silently rolled the window down on your side, then grabbed the gun which you left on the passenger seat and suddenly turned with the car, giving you a perfect angle to shoot.

" _They will not force us_ ", you sung sarcastically, " _they will stop degrading us!_ " And you shot, " _they will not control us_ ", you shot again, " _we will be victorious!_ "

 

Why were you slowing down and turning sideways…?

It took him only a few seconds to realise what you wanted to do, and even that few seconds were wasted. When the purple lights you shot bypassed the skeleton's head and he received the shining alert signs that _yes,_ you've shot at him, he yelled in surprise.

This wasn't a game anymore. You really did shoot at him!

And even though he knew he could die here and that would probably mean the end of the world – it made him _laugh._

When you realised he was continuing walking towards you in a totally calm manner, you decided to speed away again, looking like an annoying little bug. _I wish I could talk to her,_ he thought, and the sunglasses showed him a button which he pressed… and a moment later his voice boomed above you, clearly audible to you.

"Stop this game and come home with me."

 

It wasn't working. You weren't a good shot! You could shoot things from close, but the skull was too up high and the bulbs in it were too shiny for you to have a clear shot.

So you decided to toss the rifle to the passenger seat again – with a creative chain of swear words – and sped up again.

You jumped up in your seat when you heard his voice… for some reason, you felt warmth in your gut at what he said. Still, you had the perfect answer; making the car spin around once, you held your hand out of the window for him to see.

With your middle finger clearly visible.

 

When he saw your silent but also very telling reply, he laughed – and that was still audible to you. That strange pain in his chest faded away, it evaporated in his adrenaline filled chase. He picked up the pace; he went faster now, and he knew once you figured out that indeed, he put in an extra button to get away from every and any bad situation in a blink, he'd probably lose you forever.

This skeleton machine was big, it was fast, but it was slower compared to the machine he had made.

"There are so many nice things in life", he tried, "and we could always meet up for a tea. In that brief time you were with me, I thought you were interesting and I'd like to get to know you better. What do you say?"

 

 _He said it was a sophisticated machine,_ you thought, _there ought to be a GPS or something._ You tapped the interface which was dark and black, and you instantly flinched back when a pale faced, blue eyed woman's face appeared.

"(y/n), it is so nice to finally see you."

You blinked at the face then looked at the road, turned to the left, then glanced at the face again.

"Who are you?" You asked befuddled.

"I am Memory." She spoke in an interesting way, syllable by syllable, as a robot would. "You're seeking me. And I can show you the way to me."

You gave the screen a growl, just when Matt spoke. His words almost tore you in two. Because you knew if you met this being who said she was you were seeking, then what he said would never happen.

"Then show me and leave him out of it", you spat at the screen and Memory smiled.

"He agreed to my request and searched for you, but he made his choice at the chasm."

"By nearly killing me?" You argued and she chuckled.

"He saved your life."

"He only followed your instructions."

"Yes. I told him to find you. But my true intention was that you'd get to know him, so you'd see your life can still turn for the better."

Anger rose up from the pit of your gut and if this woman was standing before you surely would've tore her head off with your bare hands.

"My life _never_ gets better!" You screamed.

"Doesn't it?" She tilted her head, wondering. "Do you still want to kill me?"

"I never wanted to kill you", you spat back, "I want you to take me where _they_ are."

As you continued to dodge debris with the car, Memory was awfully silent. There was at least fifteen seconds of silence as she processed what you were saying.

 

And in that fifteen seconds, Matt spoke again.

"Please, stop this suicide mission. You never even told me your name, so I'll stick with Rogue. You said you liked it. So, Rogue… I totally would give you tickets to any of our concerts, you could hang out with us in our backstage. Dom and Chris totally would like you. I'm sure of it." _Or I'd kick their asses,_ he added in thought. "I'm sure you've lost someone very close to you, and I understand that, but life has so much more to offer. I'd show you. Please, just let me!" There it was again. That weird chest pain. Was it anxiety? Did he develop anxiety? He hoped he wouldn't have a heart attack right now… that'd be so ridiculous. "Do you like Stranger Things? We could binge watch Stranger Things. Or Star Wars. Or whatever you want. Just stop the car. Let me help you, please."

 

You couldn't help but let the tears fall again as you heard what he was saying. If he meant it, and he sounded like he did, he really was a nice guy who deserved the company of much, much better people than you. Memory observed your face as you listened to him, and she saw your struggles and self-hatred written across your features.

"Do you think he'd like it if I placed you where they are now?" Memory asked you and you sniffed as your tears fell on your thighs.

"I don't give a fuck about if he liked it or not."

"Oh, I think you do."

She was right, you did. After the past few hours and what you both have been through, you pretty much cared about what he'd feel. Up until recently he was an unreachable rock star and now he was… something else? What exactly? You had no idea. You had no word for it.

"I want to be with my family", you decided and steeled yourself, and Memory sighed.

"I'll give you the direction, but you can always change your mind, you know?"

She disappeared from the screen and it showed you now a black map with dark blue lines for roads and a shiny blue light for the road you had to take. You raised your right hand to wipe your face, then you glanced up in the mirror to look back at the skeleton.

"I hope you can forgive me", you sniffled, "aw, fuck. Here goes."

Guilt settled in your gut as you finally pushed the blue button with flames – leaving the huge skeleton miles behind in mere seconds… leaving you with the hollow feeling that you had to leave him behind.


	8. R E D E M P T I O N

**Chapter Eight**

**__________________**

**R E D E M P T I O N**

You had to get out of the car once you've found the huge building. Apart from the usual darkness around you, this place was well-lit and the walls themselves seemed to glow with a faint white light. You've heard the giant machine was hurrying after you, and when you glanced back, you saw that it was very far away.

You may have some time to go through with your plan.

Matt never should know you purposefully went through all of this just to get yourself killed. If one looked at the end of it, this was the case. For you, it was _mercy_. You'd never take your own life, even if you attempted to do it a few times. Yes, you did. You were dressed in a hoodie for a reason, too. This attire you were wearing was the one which you had on when you attempted to travel here. And the long sleeves hid the many marks of previous self-harm.

You felt in your heart Matt never would approve of it. Just thinking of it made you smile. He'd probably be mad at you, even if he still had no idea who you were.

But that's the thing. You were nobody. Nobody to him. Nobody to anyone else in your world. Nobody noticed, nobody cared, as if you were silent and invisible. You only had your family, and they were long gone.

Sighing, you turned and continued your way down on the long corridor.

 

_You're trying in vain._

The message was short and intimidating, and he knew it was Memory who contacted him again. He was dead tired. Moving this machine required much more from him than he could give. But he had to carry on.

_Stop moving._

He forced himself to move faster. Each time he had to raise his legs he had to grunt. But he still carried on.

_It's useless to push yourself to your limits. She's nearly here._

He angrily reached up and tossed the sunglasses away from himself. It landed with a quiet clank. He saw where he had to go now, anyway. The glowing building in the dark seemed too small for him. He pushed himself to move faster… crushing tons of debris on his way.

 

You've reached the same bright room with the glowing orbs where he was… ages ago. You glanced up at the shiny things above you, and furrowed your brows when one of them flew closer to you. Your hands tightened on the rifle you still had with you, ready to aim and shoot the thing if it was hostile. Although, it spoke before you felt the need to protect yourself.

"Don't be afraid, (y/n). We're the Architechts. We gave the Traveler that equipment you hold in your hand, with which you travelled, and with which he found you."

"With which he found me?" You echoed and the orb, to your surprise, chuckled.

"The sunglasses. Those are not ordinary sunglasses."

"And I thought he just wanted to show off", you snorted and the orb laughed again.

"Do you require anything from us, Rogue?"

You furrowed your brows again. Maybe… if Matt made his way here and you'd need to keep him under… well, _control_ , you'd need something.

"Yes", you decided.

"Then come to this table, put your hands on it, and imagine what you need."

 

He was going to be late at this rate. Panting, he decided he'd go for a jog in the machine… this was easier said than done. The thing started to creak around him and he truly hoped it wouldn't fall apart before he made it there.

 _Why is it so important to me to get there in time?_ He silently wondered. _Why can't I just let it happen? Maybe it **has** to happen._

But he remembered your face when he asked you what made you so 'pissed off', and he doubled the intensity. **No.** He couldn't give up now. You were desperate enough to get yourself killed and he wouldn't let you.

He couldn't let you.

He would never give up on you, even if you gave up on yourself.

 

After you were done at the table, you continued walking down the corridor and you finally found Memory in that dream-like dark state which she remained. She was sitting at the table as she did when she spoke to Matt. You slowly placed the rifle down at the entrance, then made your way to her and decided to sit on the other chair at the other side of the table. You were both silent for a few moments – _she really must know why am I here, right?_ You thought to yourself, before you finally blurted out your question.

"So. Will you do it?"

Memory tilted her head. You realised she was beautiful with her pale face, blue eyes and almost white hair, and she was glowing just like the building did from outside. She blinked at you and remained silent for a few seconds.

"Didn't you realise your pain has faded in the past few hours?"

You swallowed. And your throat tightened.

"I did. But it's always coming back. I can't take it anymore. I hate to wake up screaming in the middle of the night and I hate to see and know that I'm totally alone."

"You're not alone anymore, (y/n)." Memory's words were so soft. As if she understood you, if she could truly feel your pain. Your chest started to ache, it became hard to breathe. "After all of this, if you carry on with your wish, if I do it for you – he's going to know."

"I don't care", you replied way too quickly.

"He's going to feel like a failure."

"That's his problem", you snapped.

Memory remained quiet for a few seconds as she studied you.

"He'll have to live with the fact that he couldn't save you."

"He never even should've cared about me in the first place."

"But he does." Memory waited for you to say something. Anything. But you stayed silent. She sighed. "In the near past you've been wishing you had at least one person who cared. Now you do. Why isn't that enough to stop you from your own self destruction? He genuinely wants you to survive this and stay alive."

"Just as I had to live with the fact I lost my family which you just _observed_ ", you spat back angrily, "he'll have to carry on, too."

"I don't control anything that happens in your world. I see and I hear you, but I do not intervene unless it is absolutely necessary."

"My pain didn't make it necessary to intervene? Well, tough shit for me… and you. I'm here, so you can do something about it now."

Memory sighed.

"I can't tell you anything to change your mind, can I?"

"No", you shook your head.

Memory stood up and walked to your side. You got up and faced her.

"Those who are waiting for you – everyone will be upset that you chose this way", she warned you. "Are you ready to take that risk?"

"Their anger is better than the fact I'm away from them", you steeled yourself.

Memory tilted her head.

"I'd like to ask you to descend on your knees, (y/n). It's going to make it less painful for you, and easier for me to concentrate."

 _Painful?_ Did she just say painful? You shuddered. You couldn't step back anymore, and pain was something which accompanied you every day. This wouldn't make a difference. It was fine. If death hurt – then it'd be best if you were just over it as soon as possible.

So just after you dropped on your knees and Memory reached out to touch your forehead, Matt showed up at the entrance. He was panting, and he was in pain — his lungs burned, his legs shook, his arms felt weak —, but once he saw he didn't actually run out of time, it gave him power to continue moving.

You were defeated. It didn't even cross his mind that you surrendered on your own. You seemed so determined, so headstrong earlier that it didn't even occur to him that you lied about your intentions.

"No", he muttered and took a few steps towards you both.

You noticed he walked your way from the corner of your eye and Memory also glanced at him. Raising your hand, you sadly willed your newly acquired power to send Matt flying back out the corridor.

He believed this happened because of Memory, not you. Cursing, he struggled to get up on his feet again; pain filling his mind as Memory finally touched your forehead.

"No", he repeated coolly, then picked up the rifle which you left at the door, set it to stun, and...

He stunned Memory.

Everything went pitch black. You felt like you were falling, falling, falling away...

And in the next moment, you woke up at home, in your apartment, with a pained cry. You rubbed your face and your sweaty forehead, knowing very well that Memory could not carry out your request because...

Matt suddenly gasped as he woke up in the tour bus. He didn't know where he was at first, and even when someone from the crew asked if he was okay, he couldn't reply. Every inch of him hurt, as if the events in the in-between had taken a toll on his physical body, and he almost threw up as he pushed himself up to sit.

"Are you okay?" Dom asked as he got up on the bus, "you look like you've just seen a ghost."

Matt cleared his throat and rubbed a hand across his torso. He swallowed and his mouth was dry.

"I need to..." He stumbled to his feet and nearly fell.

"Whoa", Dom muttered as he caught his friend to support him. "What's the matter? Are you drunk?"

"Rogue", Matt muttered.

"What?"

"Rogue. I need to find Rogue."

Dom would've lied if he said he knew what was going on.

"Who's that?"

"I need to find her." Trivial things like who you were didn't matter to him at all, now. In his mind, you've just failed your mission to shut down Memory, but this tightness in his chest... it didn't mean that everything was right. This pain had to be linked to you, and for some reason, he _felt_ your despair. He's had his own dark periods, but this was much, much deeper. "I think she's going to kill herself."


	9. C H A N G E S

**Chapter Nine**

**_____________**

**C H A N G E S**

 

"Sooo, let me get this straight." Chris ran a hand in his hair as he furrowed his brows. "You had some sort of a lucid dream—"

"It wasn't a dream!" Matt yelled.

"Okay-okay..."

"It was real!"

"But you were here all the time", Dom argued, "you can hardly blame us for finding this thing you told us hard to believe; you were **here**."

"Correct", Chris nodded, "you came up here and was alone for like, ten minutes. What you just told us is impossible. It couldn't—"

"I'd bet the time passes differently there! Memory said she 'pulled me out' of my body to bring me there and she froze the time!" Matt was walking up and down, rubbing his hands against the middle of his chest in a vain attempt to rub the pain out of it. He glanced out of the window with an expression of total agony, and he didn't miss that his friends glanced at each other with a concerned look on their faces. " _Oh for fuck's sake!_ Just _believe me,_ will you?" He turned and looked at both of them, his tone desperate. "Please? I swear I'm not out of my mind. I couldn't make this up."

"But you say you want us to help you find a girl whose name we don't even know", Dom objected, "think logically. Even if all of this was true, we need at least a little bit of clue. Where does she live? Do you know at least the city?"

"No", Matt muttered tiredly as he hopped down on another seat and hid his face behind his hands.

As he remained like this for a few minutes, there was silence in the bus, there was no other noise other than the chit-chat of the crew members who packed stuff away outside. They were still on tour, they still had three stops and three shows to make, then they'd have a little bit of pause until September but, _seriously,_ **was he** in the condition to concentrate on **_anything_** like this?

He grunted to himself and decided to bring his arms back down across his aching chest.

"You're awfully pale. Are you hurt?" Chris muttered and Matt shook his head.

"Physically, no", he murmured quietly.

His band mates exchanged another worried look. Matt leaned down and placed his forehead against his knees, trying to cope with the pain. He knew it wouldn't be a good idea to tell them why was he acting like this. Explaining that ever since he touched you he was linked to you would sound like something which could result in a strait jacket.

 

You systematically thrashed your home.

You've been screaming and throwing stuff in the last ten minutes.

You were so taken in with it that you barely noticed that your anxiety crept back in and tossed you inside your personal burning pit of Hell. When this usually happened, you curled up on the floor and cried until it went away.

But not yet.

It was time for hysteria.

The end was so close, _so close,_ that you couldn't help but feel incredibly angry at a certain _someone_ who somehow managed to **fuck. It. All. Up!**

You were somehow glad that Matthew James Bellamy couldn't be reached easily, otherwise you'd totally try to **strangle him to death.**

You stopped your fit of rage when you stumbled upon a poster on your wall and you spent at least three minutes staring at it; the album cover of Simulation Theory. Then it finally crashed on your shoulders. You collapsed to your knees with a sob, then you lied down on the floor, pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them tight.

You did not want to live anymore.

But you weren't strong enough to take the steps needed to go on. You were still caged in this useless body, and you were still having the same problems as before.

Nothing changed.

 

Everything changed.

That awful chest pain faded away after a few hours, but it was persistent, and he couldn't help but feel completely, totally restless. Usually, he didn't bounce with so much energy after a concert – his physical body should've been tired after a two-hour long gig, and his mind remembered how it felt to move that giant skeleton, too –, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't find a way how to get to you, how to find you and make sure you were safe.

It seemed that whatever happened in the in-between, it affected how his mind worked. His restlessness caused the others to glare at him tiredly, and when they started to leave Bordeaux, he was already in agony to know that he had four entire days before the next concert.

Arriving in Rome didn't even affect him. He was either trying to stay awake – he slept only a few hours at most at night –, or he was tapping away on his phone aimlessly. He was walking up and down in his hotel room, trying to figure out how to find you; he had to realise again that _yes_ , this world was way too big and he seriously missed his awesome sunglasses from the in-between. Suddenly, his phone started to buzz in his pocket and when he checked who it was, he had to groan.

Oh **no** , _not now._ He wasn't in the mood to talk right now, really not. He put the buzzing phone back in his pocket and tried his best to get his mind off of it… along with his other problems…

Some time later he decided to finally eat something, only to stop it ten seconds after because his chest started to ache again.

"This can't fucking be", he muttered to himself and leaned down with his arms across his middle, his forehead touching the table as he groaned to himself in total agony.

 ** _I have to_** _find her,_ he thought, _and **I have to** make this stop._

 

That evening you had to go to work again.

This, in itself, was bad enough. Going to work meant you'd need to survive eight hours of trying to avoid your abusive boss. Eight hours of a slave's work for a wage which is barely enough for you to buy groceries, barely enough to pay for your small apartment. Thankfully you saved some money when you sold your house which you had with your fiance – you couldn't afford it, and you had to pay for the funerals, too –, and what you inherited you put away for emergencies. Since painting was just a hobby which you did for fun and occasionally sold a piece or two to Muse fans (yes, you painted the members of Muse and sometimes people messaged you that they wanted to get the original, which you sent for much cheaper than other artists), you needed a real job to get real money. And, of course, you've spent a lot of money last month for a gig which Muse had in your city the last time… you just had to go or you would've regretted it later. So things were pretty tight this month.

And on top of it, you didn't anticipate you'd need to go to work tonight. Your shift started at 8 PM, you had an hour break from midnight to 1 AM, then you worked until 5 AM. Living like this took it's toll on you, and deepened your depression as you barely saw any light. You were constantly tired. You worked isolated from society, always met the night crew in shops who were just as tired as you were, and nobody was in the mood to talk.

You were so alone.

Getting ready was agonizing, and you felt the familiar tightness in your chest again which you tried to ignore. The way there was uneventful, but for some reason you couldn't help but think of Matt and how he grabbed your arm to save you from the tentacle grass.

The pain ebbed a little.

Then it doubled in intensity when you saw the familiar face of the fat, ugly man who was your boss.

"Hello sweetie", he told you in a sweet tone which turned your stomach upside down.

He was much taller than you, almost two meters, he had short black and greasy hair, dark eyes with dark circles under it, and his hand always was sweating when he initiated a handshake and you had to accept it. Like this time. He held your hand much tighter for a few seconds longer than it was actually needed.

"Good evening, sir", you said quietly and realised you didn't want to be there at all.

"Ready to work, darling?"

"As always, sir."

"Good girl."

This was another thing which annoyed you to no end. This 'good girl' thing was his saying and he used it as much as he could, probably picturing you in a very different situation than the one you were in. It wasn't a secret you carried a pepper spray with yourself… and it was visible in your black jeans' pocket as well for a reason. He eyed it today, too. Perhaps one day he was hoping you would forget to bring it… you dreaded to think what he'd do then.

 

Matt was tossing from his left side to the right and back as he tried to get some sleep, but the pain just didn't want to go away. He decided he'd take a painkiller to at least numb it somewhat, but he knew it'd be probably useless. This wasn't _his_ pain. Nevertheless, he finally fell asleep.

And he was dreaming of a tall, intimidating, terrifyingly ugly man who, for some reason, made him much more uneasy than he should've. He'd seen much worse in the in-between, why was he jumpy because of the face of a man?

He didn't have a restful sleep, he woke up in the middle of the night and had to deal with the chest pain again. He grabbed a pillow, pushed his face in it and screamed at the top of his lungs for who knew, how long.

 

Just as you did, into a towel, in your break, at midnight.


	10. M A D N E S S

**Chapter Ten**

**_____________**

**M A D N E S S**

 

He was staring forward and didn't react to anything.

This was quite concerning given the fact Matt looked and acted quite happily when Elle was visiting him. She'd stay with the band in Rome until their gig, then she'd go back to LA to wait for him once he was done with the tour... and plan out the last details of their scheduled vacation.

But Matt now was totally distant. His fiancée noticed something was off the moment she arrived; there was a car waiting for her, yes, but he was not inside of it. And when he picked up the phone — for the fourth time she rang him, no less, not for the first as usual —, he sounded hoarse and unusually exhausted.

The worry was clear on her features as she examined him but he was so zoned out he didn't even notice. Thanks to Dom and Chris Elle knew nothing of the in-between — his friends kept their word to keep it a secret —, and she also had no idea what happened in the past few days. She had to admit, knowing nothing only deepened her worries. He looked too pale, his lips were too dry, and his eyes were too bloodshot. Something must've happened. Something bad. She couldn't imagine what, but it must've been something terrible. And somehow, she must figure out what was going on and she had to figure out how to help him with it.

"Love?" She tried softly as they sat in the café of the hotel one afternoon. He didn't react to her voice, just continued staring off in the distance. He seemed like he was very, very far away. Elle tried gently again. "Matt?"

There was no reaction. She reached out and touched his hand, and it happened so suddenly. He flinched and leaned back, pulling his hands away and too far from her to reach. His eyes finally met hers, and it seemed for a moment that he'd be back from wherever he was at until now.

But despite her hopes, his expression distorted with an unknown feeling which only scared her further.

"What's wrong?" She finally asked and Matt sighed deeply as he moved a hand to rub his chest.

"Nothing."

It was obviously a lie and Elle slightly hated it when she didn't understand what was going on.

"Matt, I want to help and—"

"You can't."

She stared at him and furrowed her brows. He wondered briefly how beautiful she was; her warm brown eyes, long eyelashes, perfectly lined eyebrows, cute nose and soft lips…

**_No._ **

He leaned even further back as he stared her, observing properly what he saw on her face, now. She was worrying for him, he noticed it now, and it only made him feel worse. Any thought that crossed his mind until now was that he had to find you and bring you at least some comfort in your trials to end these terrible aches, which, he was certain, was linked to you… and seeing Elle right in the middle of these thoughts somehow shifted him away from her. He couldn't put a finger on it… _why?_ Because she didn't know anything about Memory? The in-between? Because she didn't know the things he knew about you?

He hesitated to tell her at least a little bit of information about you but he immediately knew it would not be a good idea. Elle would dismiss it as something he has no control over, which was partly true… but **this** was the thing. He knew he had **_some_** control. At least a little bit. Memory chose him to bring you back from your suicide mission, so it was really up to him to bring you back from the chasm of depression here, in this world, too. He **had to**. Once he realised how much pain you were in he just couldn't help but think about it. He could've tried to forget it, and with time, it would've worked, but ever since he felt what you did, it was with him _constantly_. It became an impossible task to forget your face and your suffering.

And Elle wouldn't understand this.

She had her own struggles in her own life, this was true. She worked herself to the bone all the time, she burnt that candle at both ends just as he did, and he appreciated she was here but…

But that wasn't enough. She wouldn't be able to take this pain away from him. She wouldn't be able to take this pain away from **_you_**.

And he couldn't tell her the truth. It wouldn't make a difference, it'd only annoy and upset her.

"What do you mean I can't?" She finally asked when she realised he wouldn't add anything else just stared at her silently. "You're freaking me out. Did something happen?"

Matt's face visibly distorted with pain again, and he almost gave in to the temptation to tell her _everything_. To spill it out. But he knew her well. She had a great imagination, yes, and she was brilliant, but… the thought of the strait jacket flashed in his mind again.

 **No,** it was better to keep it to himself. To battle this himself. Alone.

"Yes", he replied quietly and Elle's expression smoothed out.

"Okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

Matt blinked and sighed tiredly.

"No."

Her face literally twitched. He sensed she was nearing the end of her patience with him.

"Why?"

"Because it's complicated."

"I'm a clever girl."

_She's slightly annoyed._

"I know you are."

"Then tell me."

"I can't. Okay? I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

_Now she's pissed._

"Fine." She picked up her purse and stood up. "Call me when you sort yourself out."

And she walked away. Matt stared after her, feeling like an utter failure, but he simply did not have enough strength to explain anything to her right now. His throat tightened, and he knew it was his own anxiety, this time. _I've got to find her and fix it all as soon as possible_ , he thought bitterly, _but **how**?_

 

You were listening to music, as always when you were painting. Most of the time it brought you joy when you did this, but today, for some reason, you felt particularly shit. Somehow nothing worked out in your favour, and that afternoon somehow everything was darker than usual.

As if something bad happened to someone else and you sensed it in the back of your mind.

You listened to Muse's The Resistance. There were a song on this album which made you feel all sorts of inappropriate things – somehow, Undisclosed Desires got you beet red when you listened to it. This never happened before. You loved Muse, yes, you were quite a bit obsessed with the guitar solos, the bass and the drums and of course, the voice of a _certain someone_ , but you never even pictured anything remotely romantic with that _certain someone_ until today. Honest! You couldn't believe yourself. You personally disliked those girls and women who fangirled about your favourite rock stars and hated the model chick they dated. You didn't care about that! You cared only about the music! You were only interested in the songs and the feelings it woke in you. The way it made you _feel_. Ever since last Christmas, music was the only thing which made you feel alive and that was all that you needed.

But this time, for some stupid reason, you felt like Undisclosed Desires was almost written _for_ you.

Embarrassing. Just **embarrassing**.

And to make matters worse, when the last song came on – the Exogenesis: Symphony Part 3 (Redemption) –, you couldn't help but cry as you sang the lyrics along. You wished you could start it all over again. To try better and stay away from your lover from whom nothing remained but a box of belongings hidden away in one of your cupboards.

You quickly switched to their album The 2nd Law after that – you couldn't help it, you were in the mood to listen to them – and your hand stopped abruptly when the second song came on.

_I, I can't get these memories out of my mind,_

_And some kind of madness has started to evolve._

_I, I tried so hard to let you go,_

_But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole, yeah._

Your throat suddenly tightened and your lips parted in a wondering way.

"I am fucking going mental", you mumbled to yourself, then finished applying the last bit of purple light on the sunglasses on your painting. It was a memory you had of _him_ , as he was driving the car in the in-between, when he smiled that proud smile of his and his eyes were gleaming when he looked at you. "I'm so fucking gone", you mumbled, and for some reason, you _smiled_.

 

It was totally a funny coincidence that Madness was blasting from the café's speakers. He didn't notice it until the guitar solo. And when he noticed that, he glanced up with furrowed brows like, _wait, **I** wrote this, who stole it!?_

He snorted quietly when he realised how silly he was acting. Drinking the last of his coffee he put the cup down and listened a bit to the song, feeling a certain pull which he hadn't experienced before. This… felt… _good_. This was good.

 **_You_ ** _were feeling **good**._

He placed a hand over his mouth just when the loudest part came on. _Come to me, trust in your dream, come on and rescue me..._ he stared at his phone's screen and saw something which caught his attention in that moment.

**Twitter.**

He had a fucking Twitter. Maybe you had a Twitter, too. Memory said you were a devoted fan, you must've been looking at stuff they uploaded, yes? Maybe. Why didn't it come in his mind earlier? He tapped the app's icon and navigated to the front page. Stopping briefly, he typed up a new post.

**Rogue, it's madness. Please contact me ASAP.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw damn, I made myself cry with this chapter.  
> A little note. I'd never want Elle and Matt to have any sort of fight, and I certainly hope he'll find happiness on her side. Once again, this is just a fiction. <3  
> :)  
> :)  
> :)  
> Also, it's playing out so nicely in my opinion, can't wait to crush it all to dust. :) <3


	11. I S O L A T E D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters on one day! I'm on fiiire! :D

**Chapter Eleven**

**______________**

**I S O L A T E D**

 

You did not contact him because you had no Twitter and had no idea he actually used Twitter.

He had no idea you didn't use Twitter unlike the rest of the five hundred thousand followers he had. He was totally agitated and checked his phone every ten seconds which drove everyone else insane up to the point that someone decided they all had to leave their phones in a basket.

After an hour of practice he rushed to check if you wrote, but alas, **no**. There were comments, retweets and countless messages in his inbox of course, but he immediately saw that none of those fans were you.

This made him angry.

If he had at least a little bit of a clue where you were! Just at least… the first letter of the city you lived in!

And to top his problems, Elle appeared in his hotel room not too long after he posted the damned thing. She stayed in the same hotel, but in a separate room; it seemed she was still pissed enough that she didn't want to be in one room with him, and he didn't make any attempts to somehow even… apologise. He's been too taken in with his task and the practice that time passed too fast for him. But Elle decided to confront him as soon as possible about it anyway.

"Who's Rogue?"

_Shit._

"It's nothing, really."

Elle stared at him and he saw the usual happy glint in her eyes was missing. _Shit._

"Really?"

Her voice was way too sweet and her smile also looked faked. **Shit.**

"Yes, really." Matt cleared his throat and ran a hand in his messed up hair. "Listen love, I'm sorry about—"

"Don't _'listen love'_ to me", Elle's smile remained and the same sweet tone stayed, too, but her words felt like a stab to his chest. The fact his face resembled a lost puppy now did not affect her at all. "Tell me who's Rogue."

 ** _SHIT._** It wasn't even shit anymore, it was ** _RED ALERT_**. With huge, blinking red letters.

"I'd tell you if I knew you wouldn't think I'm a lunatic", his shoulders fell as he admitted and she didn't look like she even tried to understand him.

"I would never think you're a lunatic. Is it a woman?"

He paused long enough for her to see that he was disappointed in himself for failing her, and then, he sighed deeply. He knew what sort of a reaction his reply would bring, but he couldn't lie to her anymore. So, he told her the truth.

"Yes. Rogue is a woman."

In this setting, with the recent events in mind, the way he acted – distant, detached, almost cold – tried her patience so badly that this, _this_ tiny bit of information was the last straw. And the fact that she knew he linked this Rogue character to their song, to _Madness_ of all…

He didn't think of it as a hint that he actually loved you, and that you loved him according to the song – gosh, why would he think that? What you two went through was truly _madness_ and he hinted at it _this_ way. What you've seen was beyond your imaginations. It didn't even occur to him that Elle would link his post to the song and it's lyrics and that she would overthink it in a way that he had, in fact, another relationship, a secret one, with someone called Rogue.

Because, in all honesty, this was what she was thinking in that moment.

"I see."

Her smile was gone. There was nothing on her features but the fact how hurt she was. Matt felt his heart clenched as his pulse almost skyrocketed. He shifted closer – and she flinched away.

"No!" He gasped. "You misunderstand—"

"I don't misunderstand anything!"

"You do! I'm not having an affair with anyone—"

"Then who is she?!"

Frustrated beyond belief, angry tears gathered in his eyes as he ran his hand in his disheveled hair yet again.

"She's…"

And he stayed quiet. He couldn't put it into words.

Elle waited five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds.

Then she moved to grab her cherished engagement ring on her finger and slipped it off of her finger, then dropped it on the ground between them.

Matt stared at it, then glanced back at her, with even more tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at last.

"Love, don't do this, please—"

She spun on her heels and left, slamming the door as hard as she could.

 

You were still singing their songs as you were patiently working on another painting later that day in your apartment. You still had quite a few hours until work and you decided you'd try and paint memories of what happened in the in-between, and most of your paintings were about… well, _you know who._ When he was standing next to you next to the blue grass field with the rifle in his hands.

Out of the blue, a wave of inexplicable sadness washed over you. You didn't know where did it come from. Everything was alright in one moment, and in the next, you felt the urge to cry so much you could barely breathe. With deep breaths you tried to calm yourself down only to break down and sob again mere moments later.

You washed your face repeatedly and tried to figure out what was wrong. This never happened before. You hugged yourself and let it all out, deciding it'd be the best course of action you could do.

But it went on for hours. Literally, for long, long hours. No matter how hard you tried, nothing helped.

Then it slowly faded away. Just when you had to go to work. And that fact made you anxious again. The chest pain was back, and you looked forward to one incredibly shitty night again.

 

After a shitty evening, that dreaded pain was back again. He felt miserable, even more miserable than in the past few hours. He purposefully pushed the hankies off of his bed from where he was lying, and turned on his side to curl up and hug himself in fetal pose.

It didn't take him long to fall asleep though, despite the fact he cried his eyes out and the pain was too sharp.

And to his total annoyance, he had a dream of that greasy haired man again. He wondered about that the next morning when he felt a wee bit – but only a wee bit – better. Who the _fuck_ was that? And why was he in his dreams? Could this be linked to you, too?

Fuck it. Fuck it _all_. This didn't even worth it anymore. The night of the next gig approached and he'd never felt so, well, _shit_. It was hard to function now that he lost Elle, who didn't return any of his texts, messages and calls. Later that day he discovered a brand new post she made on Facebook stating that they had 'split lovingly'.

There was nothing 'loving' in the way she part ways with him; she literally threw him out. And despite the fact he knew the way he didn't explain things to her, he didn't deserve this at all. It was totally uncalled for, and she had no patience for him after being together for four years. All of it was a disappointment. So much for the previous statement that he was the 'man of her dreams' and that she couldn't 'imagine their lives apart'.

He'd spent a few other hours trying to get all of his sadness out. He couldn't let down his fans here in Rome, and he must be in perfect mental state for the show. He had to be. But when there was a knock on his door, he walked as slow as possible to check who was it.

"Mate, what happened?" Dom asked him at once when he saw Matt's face, but the drummer already knew as he saw Elle's post.

Matt tried to reply – he really tried to put everything that happened into words but then his lips trembled and he shut the door in Dom's face instead. Of course, that did not stop his friend from opening it again and walk straight in to give Matt a bear hug as the singer sobbed and soaked the shirt on Dom's shoulder with tears. He didn't have enough power left in him to hide his insecurities.

He felt so isolated and drained.

 

_There it was again._

You were casually making a sandwich while you were thinking about your next painting when suddenly, out of nowhere, your waterworks exploded all over your slices of bread and cheese. Why did you feel like this sadness wasn't yours? How _couldn't_ it be yours? Maybe you were subconsciously crying for the loss of the privilege to be in his presence? **Bullshit.** He was even a bit annoying over there with all of his bossing around, even though you secretly… liked how he told you what to do…

"Fucking Hell", you wiped your face tiredly. "Give me a fucking break, brain. I'm tired of your shit."

You tossed the bread in the trash, you wouldn't eat your tears, you weren't emo enough, thank you very much. You were just cutting another slice and you nearly exploded in a sob and almost cut your fingers off. You decided to put down the knife and you sat down in your armchair waiting for it to go away.

You felt so isolated and drained.


	12. R I V E R

**Chapter Twelve**

**________**

**R I V E R**

 

There was some comfort in the fact that once these shows were over, he'd have some time and peace. Right now, this was the only thing that brought him comfort; that once he found you he'd put an end to your connection. He was even willing to go to Memory again to fix it.

Perhaps because of the stunning in his desperate attempt to save you created a problem in the memories; perhaps this was why he felt so terrible every damned evening with that chest pain. You two were connected… and he wondered briefly if it worked the other way around.

Well, if it did, you didn't try to contact him.

It wasn't different during their gig, either. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but between each and every song he had to take a break and breathe heavily through his mouth to calm himself and somehow ease the pain in his chest. He still could pretend he was fine, though, and only Dom and Chris were the ones who shot unusually worried glances his way.

At least the concert was over at 10 PM, so he could simply go back to his hotel room to try and get his sadness out, as much as possible.

 

That evening you were working again, but this time, somehow everything was even worse. It wasn't simply anxiety as usual, there was a wave of sadness which occasionally made you as sad as you were when you woke up from that car crash.

Lifting boxes of heavy groceries this day was even harder than usual, especially when the waves of sadness came more frequently after 10 PM. You had to take a break every time because it got out of hand and it was just too much.

It didn't take long for your boss to notice it, and start asking questions.

"Is something wrong, love?"

You had to wipe your face to dry the tears off with a hankie to gain some time to answer.

"I'm just… going through a rough patch lately."

How to explain it? That this sadness wasn't even yours? That existing hurt so much that you felt like you're being torn in two?

"A rough patch, darling?"

You wanted to tell him so badly to stop calling you like… how he called you all the time.

"Yes. But I'll… try and get it under control, sir."

You couldn't. You burst out in tears again only seconds later, and you had to quickly run away to avoid confrontation about it.

 _This never happened before the in-between,_ you thought as you stared at your reflection in the mirror of the restroom. You got through the most tearful phase of your life months ago, and you could control yourself most of the time. This spring had been helping a lot, you tried to go out and see the city more, you went to a Muse concert and you found a purpose in trying to find the source of life, which led you to Memory. You stared at your own (y/e/c) coloured eyes as they filled with tears again. _Why am I so sad?_ You questioned yourself. _Why do I feel like it's not_ **me** _who's sad?_

It faded away an hour later, and you had an almost peaceful night afterwards. As you were walking back home at 5 AM and listened to music on your phone, you softly smiled at the sight of the river of your city and breathed in the dawn.

_It will pass. Whatever it is, it will pass. Everything does._

 

He woke up early that morning because the dream he saw was too familiar.

He **_knew_** that river.

Picking up his phone he ignored the thousand notifications and checked some pics of the place. For some reason, it made him even more excited now, because he felt like that sight of the river didn't come from his imagination. It came from you. Just like the greasy haired man and the chest pain.

 _She's in London,_ he smiled faintly. He rubbed his face tiredly. _And she bypasses the Thames at dawn. Perhaps she works during the night? That's why I feel her anxiety at the evening and at night, because she goes to work and she's worried?_

"Hmm", his brows twitched.

 _Perhaps that fat fucker is her boss._ The thought made him unusually uneasy again, and there was a faint anger rising in his stomach. _Perhaps she's afraid of him. Perhaps… he abuses her._

He tossed his phone back down on the other pillow and suddenly sat up, his hair stood in every possible way and he looked paler. This thought didn't help with his own anxieties. The need to protect you did not cease after he left the in-between, it was still very strong within, and all he wanted to do now was to get to London, find you and possibly… well, no, **_definitely_** punch your boss. In the face. Repeatedly. With a chair.

 

You attempted travelling to the in-between again, but it didn't work.

Whatever you did that day when you succeeded didn't get you closer to it now. Frustrated all day, you decided you'd paint again. But it didn't work out as you wished it would. You felt so hopeless, alone, wretched, that you barely had any willpower left in you to even move, eat, sleep, to overall, function.

The morning and the afternoon passed surprisingly well – you only broke down crying twice –, and your latest painting came along nicely. You had a few days off, and that thought brought you comfort…

But you still felt like it was like the quiet before the storm.

 

Things were quiet enough. Moving to the next city – Lisbon in Portugal –, Matt found himself focusing more on his next move rather than grieving for what he'd lost lately. That would not come back anyway. Elle was still completely, totally ignoring him, and even though he'd occasionally be thrown into a pit of sadness, he overcame it with the knowledge that he'd find you and end this ridiculous thing once and for all. He'd somehow beg his way back to Elle, too.

He'd fix everything.

The gig in Lisbon went perfectly, and he needed less and less pretending he was fine – especially since his chest, for some reason, didn't hurt as it used to do. Perhaps you had some break away from work? That was a fresh breath of air for him and he felt like he was his own old self once again.

Madrid was beautiful. He joked with Chris and Dom as before, he had quality chat with his son and his son's mother, and he was just practicing for the last gig when it hit him again.

But it was much worse this time.

He quickly put down his guitar and made a few quick steps to avoid falling down from the stage, collapsing on one of the smaller speakers behind him. He vaguely heard Dom calling out his name, but he was too taken in with the new sensations.

The chest pain was one thing. The sharp, stabbing, persistent pain in his left arm was another.

He didn't notice Chris got a hold of his shoulder as he panted and stared forward, seeing nothing at all. His hands and arms shook and he went awfully pale when he realised what you were doing.

You clearly had an episode. A bad one. You must've missed the point of living at this moment, because the pulsing pain he'd felt in his left arm was too sharp to be taken lightly. His right shaking hand moved on his left lower arm, as if he tried to keep it together.

The pain worsened, and he passed out.

 

You woke up hours later in your apartment.

The bathroom was a mess. You felt guilty for making a mess. You didn't even want to take it into consideration anymore, you decided you'd somehow get pills. That'd be an easier way, yes? Less mess. Less problems to worry about of those who'd find you eventually.

There was no more coming out, for some reason, it stopped. You stared at your arm silently. Should you try again? Why did it stop? Why did you wake up?

Matt wasn't here to save you. You were alone. As always.

 

He slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Chris?" He mumbled back and grimaced.

"You scared us shitless, man", Dom replied, using the same gentle tone as Chris did a moment before.

"Where am I?" He reached up to touch his face and he felt totally numb.

"In the backstage. The doc just left." As Chris spoke, Matt finally glanced at them, and let out a shaky breath. He realised he was lying on the couch. "We thought you had a heart attack. You were grabbing your left arm and your chest so hard we could barely get to you properly."

"It was Rogue", he muttered. Dom and Chris stared at him, their expressions darkened. Matt's throat tightened. "She hurt herself and I felt it."

"Matt…"

"I know she did." His voice grew thinner and tears gathered in his eyes. "I know she did, I know, I know she wanted to end it…"

"Matt, you seriously need help. This delusion is starting to get out of hand."

"No…" He blinked his tears away. " ** _She_** needs help. Why can't you understand?" He groaned softly. His arm still ached. "I need to find her."

"We still have a gig left but we're thinking about calling it off. The state you're in—"

"No!" Matt cut Chris off immediately, "I'm not letting our fans down. I'm fine. But after the gig I'll go to London as soon as possible."

"London?" Dom echoed. "Whatever for?"

"I know she's there. I _feel_ she's there." Matt put his head back down on the pillow. "And I won't stop searching until I find her."


	13. R E U N I O N

**Chapter Thirteen**

**_____________**

**R E U N I O N**

 

Work was shit. Staying home was shit. Doing something was shit. Doing nothing was shit.

You simply didn't have enough power left in you to fight it anymore, so you simply let the darkness engulf whatever light remained in you. The hope was gone.

You continued to work during that night without even taking your break. You weren't motivated to eat, anyway. As you reached under a heavy box, you wished you still had your power which you possessed in the in-between, when you could push Matt back out to the corridor with your own will. A wave of guilt washed over you at the memory. Poor man; he really tried his best to somehow help… and in the end, he managed.

He fucked it up.

In your bitter self-hatred you didn't notice that the box indeed got lighter to lift.

Around five you yawned in your hand and left work; you walked as slow as possible, you didn't need to hurry back to your empty home anyways. Nothing awaited you. Nothing ever did.

You stopped at your favourite spot to check out the Big Ben and the Thames as you usually did. In all honesty, you loved your city. This sight was one of the few things you enjoyed in your life.

Continuing your way, you chose to take the alley which you usually took, but this time, something was different. You felt like you were being watched. You quickened your steps and there it was – someone was following you. You bit your lip and grabbed the pepper spray, pulling it free from your pocket.

"I know how to defend myself, so be clever and _fuck off!_ " You called out above your shoulder as you continued your way.

To your horror, the man merely chuckled. You stopped walking and faced him. Perhaps you wanted your life to end, but you definitely didn't want to be assaulted and abused by anyone. You didn't see his face, it was too dark, still before dawn in your cloudy town and he had a hoodie covering half of his face anyway. A shiver ran down your spine as you saw the man continued to casually walk after you.

"There's no need to protect yourself from me, Rogue."

The reply shook you to your core and you nearly passed out when Matt raised his head and his striking blue eyes finally met yours. By now, he was only a few meters away from you. He narrowed his eyes as he stopped just an arm's length away from you.

Both of you stared at each other. Your utter disbelief and shock was written all across your features as you slipped the pepper spray back in your pocket, and the bastard was smiling as if he just thought to himself, _ha, I **knew** I could find you._ And while he was rather pleased with himself, you kept thinking, _is he even real?_ Well, there was a way to find it out.

"Matthew James Bellamy", you pushed his full name through your gritted teeth and he missed the evident anger hiding in your tone because he smiled a bit wider.

"I'd say your name but—"

He abruptly cut off as your right palm made a sharp contact with his left cheek. The same cheek which had been punched with the butt of that rifle back in the in-between.

It surprised you that he felt real. You still didn't believe it that he was there, although your hand ached quite a bit. It was a rather forceful slap. He visibly gritted his teeth and turned his head back to look you in the eye again. He would've been lying if he said he did not expect this from you.

"I'm glad to see you t—"

Another slap. Same cheek. Okay, this really hurt, this time. And despite it physically hurt him, it were your eyes which were full of tears when he turned his head and looked in them again.

"You fucking asshole", you managed to gasp.

"That's probably not the—"

You moved your hand to slap him again, but he was not about to let you. Grabbing your right arm tightly, he kept your hand away from his face, this time. You immediately tore your arm out of his grasp. **_Yepp._** He was totally real.

"You ruined everything!" You nearly shouted.

"I didn't."

"You did!"

"Well if you mean I ruined everything by saving your life, then yes, _I did!_ " He started to lose his patience too, he was raising his voice just a little bit and began to speak faster than usual. "And I'd do it over and over again and I'd **_never_** feel bad about it."

You huffed angrily and spun on your heels to leave him there. You weren't about to let him get to you, not now, not like this. You had enough problems as it was. But he thought differently. He kept following you.

"Stop following me!" You didn't even look back at him.

"No."

His calm reply upset you.

"Don't you have a better thing to do?!"

"At the moment, no."

"Go home."

"No."

You stopped and he stopped too, within an arm's reach again. You both stared at each other and he couldn't help but be amused. You were so _cute_ when you were angry. The way your brows furrowed and how you pursed your lips in your fury was totally worth it.

"I thought you had a girlfriend."

"A fiancée", he nodded.

"Then don't you have a better thing to do with her?" You spat, even if his reply hurt you plenty, for reasons unknown to you.

"She's not my fiancée anymore."

Confusion overwrote the anger and you didn't understand for a moment.

"What?"

He blinked, then looked away as if it was something he didn't want to discuss with you. And he really didn't want to discuss this with you.

"She left me."

You hesitated for a moment before you exhaled. You didn't even notice you were keeping that breath inside of your chest. Then your expression darkened. He wouldn't get to you with that puppy face, **_nah!_** He totally didn't get to you with it. Not one bit. ~~Gosh he looked so lost and sad, you felt so sorry for him.~~

"Tough shit."

You turned again and fought the rather strong urge to comfort him. You reminded yourself that you were nobody to him, and that he had better things to do than to talk to you. This must've been just a stupid coincidence that you met him here.

"I've been searching for you ever since the in-between, and you just walk away?"

No. It sounded like this wasn't a coincidence at all.

"I have nothing to say to you", you replied, much less angrier than a moment ago, and continued your way to home. With a stubborn man in tow. "Stop following me!"

You stopped and looked at him again angrily and he just stared back at you from the very same distance as before, as if he knew when would you stop walking and turn to look at him. And honest, you liked to turn around and look at him. It'd be stupid to think it was not. God, you hoped he didn't know. ~~He probably did.~~

"I pledged I'd find and save you."

You paused. He sounded genuine. So genuine that it hurt.

"And you found and saved me there. What do you want? My eternal thanks?"

The sarcasm in your voice didn't affect him at all. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm not done yet."

You snorted.

"Oh, spare me from y—"

"You've been hurting yourself."

You stared at him with eyes wide and you nearly slapped him again. Instead, your nostrils twitched angrily. How did he know? _What_ did he know?!

" **Keep**. Yourself. **Away**. From. Me."

And you turned to leave again.

"Let's have a cup of tea", he offered and you snorted again.

"I know a place where you can _shove up_ your cup of tea", you growled mostly to yourself, although the idea made you all stupidly tingly.

"There's no reason to be rude with me", he reminded you calmly. You reached the door of the house where your apartment was and as you fished out the keys, he sounded like he stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "After all, we've been through a lot of madness together."

You pushed your key in and stopped briefly. An unusual warmth spread in your chest. What the fuck was happening to you?! Are you going insane? Glancing back at him above your shoulder, you kept your eyes on him as you opened the door, walked in, then slammed it shut in his face and locked it with the key.

His lost puppy expression burned in your mind as you were pushing your forehead against the door. But you had to do this. You were more damaged than he thought, and you couldn't be fixed as he wished you could be.

He should waste his precious time on someone else, someone who deserved it. Because, you, a wreck, clearly did not.


	14. C L O S E R

**Chapter Fourteen**

**____________**

**C L O S E R**

 

Calculating the fact when would the chest pain start, he was at the bottom of the stairs before you started to get ready for work. He was rather positive about getting closer to you today; he knew this wouldn't be easy, but it was fine. You'd eventually get used to him being around you, and when that happens, he'd be able to make you feel better. And if you felt better, he'd feel better, too.

But alas, your expression said everything but happiness when you saw him. That evening was warm, he himself had only a black shirt with black jeans on; the rain which came yesterday when he was waiting for you to show up was gone by now. And yet, you still had a long sleeved black shirt on.

Seeing that in particular clenched his heart. You were covering your injury. Or injuries. He wondered briefly when did it start. Well... he'd get there. He just needed time.

"Good evening", he greeted you, and you bypassed him without even bothering to reply. Matt sighed quietly to himself and turned to follow you. Despite he followed you home yesterday, he still had no idea which apartment was yours and thus, he didn't know what was your name. "Do you use Twitter?"

You didn't answer at first and he was half prepared you won't at all. You seemed like you were walking slower than yesterday, though. Quite a few seconds passed and Matt just opened his mouth to say something else when you finally replied.

"I don't have Twitter."

Since he couldn't see your face, he tried to pick up your mood from your tone, and you seemed to be calm right now.

"That's a shame", he replied with a sad smile. "I tried to find you through that."

You didn't stop, didn't look back, just hummed. He wondered what was going through your mind, he wished he could read your thoughts.

"Do you work at night?"

"Hm."

At least you answered.

"And what do you work?"

He heard you sigh tiredly and you stopped walking. He shimmied back a step just in case you wanted to slap him again, but when you turned to look at him, your expression slapped him instead. You looked so drained, so  _sad_ , that he couldn't understand anything at first. What made you don this expression?

"Leave me alone."

Since he was used to your attitude, Matt simply slipped his hands in his pockets and held your gaze with a half smile.

"I won't leave you alone."

"Why?"

Why, why... because your pains were too much for him to bear. Because he couldn't tolerate the thought that you were hurting yourself. Because... you needed him.

"Because I want to be around you."

There was a slight tremble of your lower lip as you quickly turned your back on him again, and his heart clenched with yours simultaneously. This didn't feel like you were happy.

"You shouldn't want that."

Normally, he wouldn't, correct. But that was before the in-between. That was before he was connected to you. That was before he knew how much pain you were in, day to day.

"But I do", he replied softly. You didn't say anything. He tried again. "So, what's your job?"

There was a short pause. Perhaps you were thinking about what should you reply, if you wished at all.

"I'm filling shelves of a shop."

"All night?"

"Yes. And organising stuff in the back."

"This doesn't sound like an easy job."

"It's not." You paused. "But it's fine."

"Why?"

"Because while I'm working I don't think."

That made him wonder for a few moments. You stopped at the same spot where he found you yesterday; and he slowly slipped next to you to look at the sight himself. Although, he secretly was more fascinated by you than the city, so he glanced at you. You looked tense, nervous, even, and he couldn't put a finger on  _why_. Maybe because of who he was?

"What's on your mind?" He decided to ask you and you turned away as a reply, continuing your way. Matt decided he'd try better. He wouldn't let you down, no matter how many times he was stopped by that invisible wall you pulled up around yourself. He knew it'd eventually crumble before he did. He was nothing if not stubborn; anything he put his mind into worked out in his favour, in the end. It wouldn't be different with you, either. "Your boss treats you right, yes?"

Not a word left your mouth but he felt the chest pain increase and your hand also shook which you promptly hid by making a fist. But he still saw.

"He's fine."

You lied. And it felt bad to know you lied. But he didn't comment on it.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He followed you in silence and eventually both of you reached the door where you'd disappear behind. The WORKERS ONLY sign let Matt know that this was the place where you worked. He looked around, and would've lied if he said he liked this place. The tightness in his chest made it even worse. You turned and looked at him, and he glanced at you at once, his blue eyes curious of what you have to say. But you said nothing. So, he smiled a bit at you.

"I'll be waiting for you here when you get off work."

You blinked, utterly confused, at him.

"Why on Earth would you do that?" You asked with furrowed brows.

"Because I want to take you home."

You shifted closer to the door, and further away from him.

"You don't have to do any of this." He could pick up in your tone that your throat tightened. He opened his mouth to reply when you continued to speak. "I don't deserve your company. You're wasting your time."

He closed his mouth and it was his turn to blink confused.

"I'm not wasting my time."

"You are." You seemed to grow a bit impatient, he saw the flash in your eyes. He shook his head in disbelief and you suddenly snapped. "It's useless to be in the company of something which is rotten on the inside. You should be cleverer than this."

You turned and tore the door open, slamming it angrily and left him there, feeling terrible. It became clear to him now that you hated yourself, and you couldn't even accept if anyone cared about you.

This was worse than he thought.

 

If you thought he'd give up, you were wrong.

He was exactly there when you left the back room in your break and seeing him casually sitting on a box nearby the door browsing through his phone startled you. Of course, once he saw you were outside, he put his phone away and flashed a smile at you.

"Hey. Finished?" He asked casually, though you didn't have your bag with you.

"I have a break."

"Oh." He glanced at your hands. They were empty. And it was midnight. "Shouldn't you eat, then? You must've worked hard until now."

Your befuddled expression betrayed nobody ever took the pains to ask you these basic questions. He felt your anxiety crawled back in and sat on your chest. Gently, this time. But it was there. In the past few hours it slowly faded away, so it was noticable that it came back now.

"I'm not hungry." Your reply sounded convincing, but he wasn't stupid. He glanced at the all-night Burger King nearby and glanced back at you. You took the hint, and shook your head. "I don't want to eat."

"Not even some chips?"

There was something in your expression that made him think of the possibility that you didn't even try to treat yourself with, well, good things. He got up from where he sat. You looked away, and for a moment he saw how shy you were as he seemed to confront you about this thing.

"Come on", he asked you gently. "Have some chips with me."

You suddenly moved your arms around your torso to shield yourself. He remembered this reaction. You looked exactly the same in the in-between when you were in the car. You isolated yourself on purpose. It was clearly self-defense.

"I'm not hungry", you repeated quietly.

Slightly afraid of your wrath which always seemed to appear if he pressed on something, he slipped his hands in his jeans' pockets again and sighed. _What to do?_ He didn't want to upset you, but it surely would make him feel better if he saw you ate something. You were so pale. It made him wonder.

"When was the last time you ate something?" His question confused you. _When?_ When… you glanced back at him and he clearly could see the guilt. He knew at once you didn't remember. The pain in his chest deepened. "It's fine." He tried to use his gentlest tone to make you feel better, but tears gathered in your eyes nevertheless. "If you don't want to eat, you can just come with me." He shrugged with a smile. "You don't have to eat, just join me."

You visibly hesitated and he waited anxiously, a bit afraid you'd turn back and disappear behind the door. But it seemed to him that going back was not an option. He had a feeling that his presence was much better than your boss's. You let out a tired sigh.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

He flashed a happy smile at you, and you felt tingly all over again.


	15. B K

**Chapter Fifteen**

**______**

**B K**

 

It was hard not to notice your discomfort.

He brought back the trays with all sorts of goodies. Usually he'd avoid junk food, but this time he decided to overlook it for your convenience. Besides, taking you to a proper restaurant would take too much time and he was sure you'd need to be back at work soon. You wouldn't accept the invitation, at least, not yet. It wasn't an option. Maybe in the not too far future…

You stared at the tray he placed in front of you. There was no way you could eat all of this; a grilled chicken hamburger with chips, soda and to your utter surprise, a small cup of ice cream with chocolate syrup topping. Even _seeing_ this much food turned your stomach upside down, making you shift uneasily.

"You said I don't have to eat."

You finally managed to push the words through your teeth as he casually opened his own box of Whopper. Scratch that. _Double_ Whopper.

"What sort of a man I'd be if I didn't bring you a separate menu?" Your tired eyes shifted up on his face. He smiled at you, and your lips trembled with sadness again. He tried his best to ignore the need to comfort you. "You can leave it there if you want."

"You _paid_ for it."

His fumbling hands stopped and he furrowed his brows. You didn't feel guilty for this, did you?

"Yes, I did."

"You didn't even give me a chance to pay for it myself."

He leaned back and tilted his head in a way as if he didn't understand you.

"Listen. **_I_** _invited you._ If you don't eat it, that's fine. It's totally fine. You can't do anything which would make me angry at you." He saw your eyes filled with tears again and he wished you wouldn't look away every time your insecurities got the best of you because he wanted you to see he was serious. "Hey… everything you do is okay. It's alright."

It wasn't alright, why didn't he see? Why couldn't he realise that buying you a tray of food made you anxious? You didn't want him to be around you, you were miserable, you only brought him down and – why the Hell did he keep trying? You were at the bottom of the ocean, dead inside and forgotten. Why did he come back over and over again to try and bring you back to the air, to the sun, to life?

" _Nothing_ is alright."

The way you choked up the words slightly startled him. He thought perhaps you'd shout his head off or told him off, but he didn't anticipate this. You hated how everything was written on his face and instead of letting him see you fall apart and see how it affected him in turn, you hid your face in your hands.

"You're right." He used that same gentle tone like before. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed, face still hidden. "Maybe it's not alright. But it will be. I promise."

"It… it—it won't—be", you struggled until the words came out and he hummed quietly.

"Trust me."

You got a hankie out of your pocket and tried your best to save what could be saved. You were glad for not putting any makeup on, as it'd be ruined now. Taking a few deep breaths you eyed the food again, suffering from the thought of putting _anything_ in your mouth, chew and swallow it. Matt felt like he broke down a layer of your ice wall, and he was rather proud of himself when your eyes met his again. You probably didn't notice, but you started to open up. _Slowly_ , but you did. You initiated eye contact on your own more often.

"It's totally okay if you don't eat the food", he repeated. "I'll have them put it in a bag and I'll bring it home." He shrugged.

"It'll taste bad if it's cold", you mumbled as you glanced down at the tray again.

"It doesn't bother me. And I happen to have a microwave."

You hesitated. Swallowing, you picked up the soda and sipped it through your straw. You felt so stupid. You actually sat in the Burger King which you saw every day in your break and your favourite singer was sitting right in front of you. Your eyes wondered on him again just when he picked up his double whopper, his brilliant, clever blue eyes glancing at you before he bit in his hamburger. For a moment you realised the ridiculousness of this situation. This was impossible. You watched this man a month ago how he bounced up and down on the stage, how he sang and threw his guitar at the hand of that huge monster they had hanging above them, and now, you both were here. You just… watched him eat.

Probably all of the Muse fans would think you're crazy and they'd totally put you in a strait jacket if they saw what you were doing. Or more precisely, what you _weren't_ doing. They'd call you an idiot for not using this opportunity to talk to him, get to know him personally. But getting to know _anyone_ personally meant you'd need to let them closer to the broken remains, shards you had left of yourself, and you protected those shards as much as you could. From everyone. Him included. You simply would not survive another crack in those shards.

He'd be gone, very soon, from your life, anyways. He had no time for you to hang around every night or even week, and even imagining trying to let him close to you felt stupid because he'd disappear anyways. You sniffled as you leaned back, with tears in your eyes again.

"So, what's your name?"

He couldn't let you fall back into your pit of darkness. Despite the fact he still had his mouth half full with food, he managed to peak your interest as he spoke quietly. It would've made you smile, but all you could manage now was a tired blink.

"My name doesn't matter. It's unimportant."

"Of course it's important." Matt finally swallowed his bite. "I've never met anyone who was as important as you."

You furrowed your brows and shot him a look.

"Bullshit."

"Is it?" He picked up his soda and sipped it, too. "Just as you say I don't know anything, I've got to admit, you don't know anything, either." This was true, too, because you had no idea he felt what you felt. He narrowed his eyes at you as he ate some chips. When you remained silent, he half smiled again. "Talk to me. I won't bite you."

For some reason his last sentence annoyed you. Leaning a bit forward, you finally reached out for the chips. You picked one up and dipped it in the ice cream.

"I don't want to talk", you replied quietly before you ate the chips.

He cherished his small victory. He felt ridiculously proud when he saw you sent down that little chips.

"And why not?"

You picked up another piece and dipped it in the ice cream again, purposefully avoiding eye contact, this time.

"Because you're going to disappear."

Was this what you were so afraid of? That he'd just walk out of your life? At the moment he couldn't even imagine that. Ever since he'd found you that chest pain was almost tolerable because he was around you and saw that you've made some progress. And leaving you, purposefully? Why would he do that?

"Remind me, why will I exactly disappear?"

You nibbled a little on your chips and still didn't look at him.

"You just _will_."

"Did I disappear in the in-between, too, when you needed me?"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

"That was different."

"Different, how?"

He bit in his hamburger again and you remained quiet as you dipped another chips and ate it.

"You have your own duties in this world."

"Phones exist. E-mails exist. I happen to have a personal one of both."

You furrowed your brows as you glanced up at him, but he used the time to bite another and with that, he finished his hamburger. Your throat tightened again, then you shook your head.

"No. This isn't going to work."

He had to admit, you really were stubborn. _Almost_ as stubborn as he was.

"Maybe we should try it first, _then_ we can decide if it works or not."

You visibly clenched your jaw.

"Why are you so persistent?" You asked finally.

"I want to make sure you're okay."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter _why?_ " He picked up a few chips and pushed them right in his mouth. Seeing this made you grimace. "What? I like chips."

"You eat like you haven't had anything for days."

"How do you know I did?"

You shook your head and huffed angrily. He was about to get on your nerves.

"Don't you still have to be on tour?"

"Not until September, no." At your slightly shocked expression he grinned. "What? Surprised? I have all the time in the world now, so we can chat."

"I don't have all the time in the world."

"Then give me just a little." He picked up another chips and dipped it in your ice cream. Your eyes noticeably widened as he ate it. How could he eat so much? "Hmm, that's good, I think I've never tried it this way until now."

"You can eat my chips, too", you offered but he shook his head.

"I bought that for you."

You sighed. The guilt he managed to cause was too much for you to bear, so you finally opened the grilled chicken sandwich. God it smelled so good. Did things smell this good? Lately, you couldn't recall if you've been even smelling or tasting anything. Lately, you didn't pay attention to anything but your darkness. Biting in the hamburger you realised that it was simply the _best_ sandwich you've had in a real long time. You tried your best to ignore that Matt was looking at you with a big smile. Even if you didn't look at him properly, you saw it from the corner of your eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked before you took another bite.

"Because I'm very, very proud of you right now."


	16. D A R E

**Chapter Sixteen**

**________**

**D A R E**

 

Eventually, magically, the food he bought for you vanished. He helped with the chips and the ice cream though, but you still ate the sandwich and half of the chips with the ice cream and that was what mattered to him the most at the moment. You checked the time on your phone and he felt the pain increase immediately. You became pale.

"What's the matter?" He asked, he couldn't help it, he couldn't ignore how anxious you've became and how scared you looked.

"I'm late." Without hesitation you got up from your chair and glanced at him when he did the same. "Go home, now. It's past 1."

"I told you I'd take you home."

"There's no need to take me home, I can find the way back, thank you very much."

You picked up your tray and brought it to the trash bin, with him following behind you with his own tray.

"I'd feel better if I personally saw you locked that door from the inside."

You put the tray where it belonged then faced him. His stubbornness was draining the rest of your energy away, and you grew impatient even more when you saw his face. You _hated_ his face. ~~At least, you tried to hate it. You failed miserably, but you tried. A bit.~~

 "Now I know you can't take a subtle hint, you can't take a not-so-subtle hint, either. Does it mean you want me to slap you again?"

Your question made him smirk and that, once more, made you feel weird in your stomach. As if the chicken started to dance in there. A very _quick_ and _passionate_ dance.

"Why not just simply accept the fact that I want to make sure you're safe?"

You clenched your jaw. He softly placed the tray on top of yours and you suddenly noticed the scent of his cologne. God, why did it have to be so strong, confident, sweet, intoxicating ~~and sexy~~??! Wasn't it enough you barely could look away from those shiny blue eyes of his?! Why was everything about him straight _punishing_ you?!

"I don't need protection. I'm fine."

He shook his head a little.

"You can try and lie to yourself, but you can **_not_** lie to me."

You huffed, then spun on your heels and marched outside. Matt followed you silently, hoping your boss would not be mean with you, but judging by your reaction he had his doubts. Perhaps that was why you hurt yourself? Because of him? He'd need to stay nearby…

A moment to stop and look at him at the WORKERS ONLY door.

"Thanks for the food", you finally managed to tell him.

"You're very welcome", he bowed his head.

"Go home", you tried again.

"No", he smiled back at you.

Fuming, you opened the door and disappeared behind it, leaving him alone with an ache which wasn't his.

 

It took five minutes for that ache to increase in intensity. Concentrating to get a hold of himself, he walked back to the same box where he waited for you first, and rubbed himself across his chest once he sat down.

Then it got _significantly_ worse.

The sane side of his mind told him not to intervene, but the other, the darker side of him wished to march right inside, track you down and remove you from here with force, if need be. This was the reason he couldn't sleep at night. This was the reason you've battled with this anxiety for so long, because you couldn't get out of this shitty situation and you felt like you were trapped by someone stronger than you.

He knew your past already brought anxiety – what happened exactly maybe he'd never know –, but how you were forced to live your life made it infinitely worse. Especially that he knew now what caused your discomfort at night.

Fighting with the urge for solid ten minutes, his aches worsened further. It was almost too much, it was numbing, and he would've tolerated it if he knew you didn't feel the same. But you did. And what he told you was true. He didn't want you in pain, period.

Matt finally had enough and stood up. And walked inside through the door without as much as a plan.

That plan formulated at once when he approached both of you in the back room. He found you both not too much further, the boss almost completely blocked you from Matt's sight, but he still saw you both. You looked so nervous, so small, so innocent and that man he saw in his dreams lately looked too tall and too intimidating even from behind that he knew that this was it. He casually and calmly approached you both, and as he did, he heard you whimper.

"I'm so sorry sir, it won't happen again, I promise…"

"I know it won't sweetheart", the boss's voice was silky and sweet. "I know it won't happen again. You need this job, yes?"

"Yes, sir…"

"Then you'll stay an additional hour today."

"But sir… it was just seven minutes…"

" **SEVEN MINUTES!** " The boss's sudden roar made Matt stop in his walk with a shocked expression. He heard you sob in the silence and his face twitched. " **SEVEN MINUTES OF SLACKING OFF!** "

 _Enough_ , Matt thought as he stopped only a few meters away from you both.

" _I **dare** you_ to yell at her again."

He almost could hear how your heart stopped beating the moment you realised he was in there and he heard you and your boss. The boss turned and stared at Matt with furrowed brows but the singer looked totally calm.

"Who the hell are you?" The boss growled. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I _dare_ you", Matt repeated in a threatening voice.

It was in that moment when he finally realised the problem of the situation. Because he might've been a bit taller than you, he was, in fact, much smaller than your boss. He stood his ground as your boss turned and took a few steps towards him.

"Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops."

"Call them", Matt snarled, "you utter twat."

"N-no", you whimpered quietly. "Sir, I'm so sor—"

"It looks to me you want a broken jaw." Your boss shifted closer to Matt and you straight panicked, which did not help your blue eyed saviour at the moment... but somehow it still did. You were too terrified. You needed help. "Or a broken nose."

"Sir, please don't, it's my fault", you slipped closer to them both, trying to block your boss's way from reaching Matt, but your boss simply swatted your face with the back of his hand and you had to retreat.

There were too many things which upset Matt in that moment, and that mean slap was the last straw. His expression darkened – you've never seen him looking so mad before –, and his fist was in the air in a blink. And maybe he was short, he still was in a great shape. Which meant that his punch drew blood immediately. Everything happened so suddenly. Your boss was yelling again and tried to clean his face from his own blood. Matt took a step back and calculated what the big brute would do, ready for anything judged by his expression, but you knew he had no chance when your boss's right hand reached inside his jacket's inner pocket.

You saw the shining light of a blade for a moment and your mind exploded in complete, utter _panic_.

Without thinking why would this be good, you automatically brought both of your hands up and at your boss. And just as you sent Matt flying back in the corridor in the in-between, you sent your two meters tall boss flying unceremoniously through the air just the same. There was a loud thud as he hit the opposite wall where he collapsed and didn't move anymore.

You still had your hands up when Matt looked back at you after witnessing the power of your will sending the asshole quite swiftly away… knowing what you did was impossible, scary and ultimately _awesome_. He took a step towards you and you cried out as you took a step back.

"Stay there!!"

It was hard to act calm after such events, but adrenaline acted quickly and it helped him to understand what just happened.

"It's alright."

" ** _Oh my God_** if you tell me again it's alright I **swear** I'll make you **_regret_** it!" You shrieked. Then you slowly lowered your hands… then you ran them in your hair, grabbing it. "What have I done, what's happening, _oh my God—"_

"Rogue", Matt raised his voice so you'd hear. "Look at me." When you refused he shifted closer. "Listen to me. This wasn't intentional, you didn't want to hurt anyone, you just tried to protect me."

"You bloody idiot!" You finally looked back at him, "what the hell are you doing in here anyway?? Why didn't you listen to me?!"

"Because he was abusing you!" He snapped right back.

"It's not fucking news to me! Imagine every day you go to work you have to be in private with a tall asshole who undresses you with his eyes and you know he's just waiting for the best opportunity to—to—"

"See?" Matt made a wide gesture with his arms, "this is _exactly_ why I couldn't leave!"

" _I'm nobody to you!_ You should've tossed me in the chasm and you wouldn't have any more problems with me!"

That last comment hurt him more than any slap your hand delivered to his face.

"The only problem I have with you is that you're too bloody stubborn to see that I want to get to know you!"

"Why?!" You demanded. He remained silent and put his hands on his sides in a pouting way as he glanced up at the ceiling with a dramatic sigh. You heard him murmur _I can't fucking believe this._ "Huh? Why?! Answer me!"

He stared back at you and the thought that he was _cute_ when he was angry crossed your mind.

" _I don't know!_ I just _have to_ , okay?! I _need_ to! Make your peace with it finally and accept it that I am here to stay and I _won't_ abandon you! Especially when you need it most!"

Your boss groaned and your hands started to shake.

"Get out. Both of you", he growled lowly. He slowly pushed himself up to sit. "Go. Before I change my mind. Don't ever come back."

You leaned down for your bag and picked it up, then bypassed Matt and left the building, with him following. You walked silently and rather quickly until you reached your favourite spot which was rather deserted at that time. That was when you turned to look at him and let go of your anger.

"Thanks to you, I lost my job."

"Thanks to me, you don't have to work for that asshole anymore."

"And what do you think, what will I do now?!" You couldn't help but shout, 'favourite singer' be damned, what he did was unacceptable.

"You'll find another job."

Despite your obvious anger, he appeared to be calm, only mildly upset, but not yelling like you did.

"I can't believe you just barged in and punched my boss in the face!"

"I can't believe you tolerated him doing things to you which are totally not alright." His coldness cooled you down momentarily. "I really can't believe it. I thought you were tough."

"I'm not tough. Okay? I'm a fucking wreck, and you should know this ever since you've met me. I'm nothing but a horrible mess who can't function and can't take care of herself properly, and I don't need anyone, do you know, why? Because I've been through too much, and I am not strong enough to deal with it, and this job I had was perfect in a sense that it paid well and I could make a living out of it. I never was late with my rent, or my bills, or anything else, and I'm here now, without a fucking proper job, wasting time talking to Earth's most stubborn man who doesn't even know how hard it is to make a fucking living in this fucking world!"

You spun on your heels and continued walking. You didn't even want to hear what he would reply to that.

"You can't keep lying to yourself", you heard his voice as he still followed you.

"I'm not lying to myself!"

"You do."

"What do I lie to myself?"

You stopped again and faced him, your expression twisted with anger. He looked completely calm.

"That you're better off alone."

There was a brief moment when you wanted to punch him yourself. You _seriously_ considered punching him as hard as you could. Maybe that would get the message across of his thick skull. But instead, you smiled a sad smile.

"I am better off alone", your tone was calm now. Matt shook his head. "Do you know, why?"

"Why?" He asked.

"Because humans have a flaw." You paused. "They **_die._** You know? They die every day. They die in this moment, too." You breathed in and noticed the chest pain was gone completely. You didn't even notice it went away. "And I will not have your death add to my guilt."

"My death wouldn't be your fault", he objected.

"It could've been, tonight." You got your keys out of your pocket. "You didn't see, but he had a knife. If I didn't send him across the room, and I still have no idea how did I do that, I'd fall apart above your dead body now." Your throat tightened. "And I don't want that." You walked up the stairs and opened the door, then walked in and looked back at him. He had the same lost puppy expression on just like yesterday. **_"I don't want that"_** , you repeated, then closed the door and locked it.

 


	17. R O C K S

**Chapter Seventeen**

**__________**

**R O C K S**

 

Your anger didn't leave you as you wished it would, so you did the best with your time… searching for a job.

You _hated_ searching for a job. Even if you found something which wasn't a fake 'job' to milk people of the little money they have (like _'pay this amount of money then you'll get a promotion and get twice as much back_ ' ones), you had obvious insecurities when it came to choosing one. You were basically a shy individual, an introvert who didn't really like to be around people and didn't really like to socialise. Working in the depot at night was perfect for you; it could've paid more, but you rarely had to deal with people personally.

Now you'd have to get your CV together – which, wasn't much – and if anyone even wished to see you personally, you'd have to go to an interview.

 ** _Personal interview._** You'd be needed to appear there in your own flesh and bone. This thought freaked you the fuck out.

What freaked you the fuck out more was the fact that you barely found anything you liked. Hostess – no. Cashier – Hell no, you'd rather live under a bridge instead. Librarian – well, this wasn't so bad, but you could imagine how many people walked in to a library and that meant you'd barely have any time to yourself while you'd need to take care of a bunch of shit. E-mails, check people's book lists, organise things… no.

And another hundred _no_ s.

It was around 9 AM when you finally went to sleep with a chest ache so painful you whimpered in your pillow until it faded a little bit and you almost passed out. It didn't go away when you woke up much later, and you resumed your search without even eating anything. When it was around 6 PM, you realised your stomach hurt way too much, along with your chest and your head. The throbbing pains didn't make it easier for you to concentrate. Perhaps you should've paid more attention and ate something apart from drinking only tea…?

"Rogue!"

You suddenly furrowed your brows when you heard that certain familiar voice calling out this name which only he used when he was talking to you. _What the Hell?_ Was he…? You ran a hand in your disheveled hair, walked to your window in your black long sleeved shirt, opened it and glanced down. You battled back your smile when you saw him standing down there in your street, his blue eyes finding you immediately when you leaned out to look at him. He looked so small as you glanced down at him from your second floor. He was wearing a black shirt, black jeans with a (how surprising) black hoodie – it's London, and it was raining today again despite it was July. You wondered if he was like this always when he was dressing more casually.

"What?" You yelled back down.

"Listen, I'm sorry for yesterday." He didn't look like he felt sorry at all and you knew very well he didn't regret one bit punching your boss, but you tried to believe him now. "Please come down and have dinner with me?"

Wait a fucking blessed moment here. Matt Bellamy, the musician you cherished and painted day and night in the past few days – there were nothing in your apartment but canvases filled with his ~~stupid~~ face – just asked _you_ out for dinner? You blinked stupidly. And the anger from yesterday was back. It _would_ be beneficial to have dinner with him, mainly because you wouldn't need to worry about what to eat, but when you remembered how guilty you felt that he paid for the food yesterday made you snort at his idea.

"Ask Miss Evans to go with you instead."

Yes. You did your research. He's dating a model, or, if you could believe, dated until recently. Before that, he was together with Kate Hudson. With whom, by the way, had a kid. And there were rumours; how he had those one night stands back in the past… but you guessed it was fine as he truly was a famous and ~~handsome~~ great rock star… still, you wouldn't join the fun. Especially seeing his exes. No, thank you very much. You weren't in _that_ league. You weren't even _near_ that league. You were so _out_ of it in fact that you should've been totally, completely invisible to him. Why was he so persistent, then? Maybe he was searching for some fun? To enjoy your company a bit then he'd simply just leave?

 **Again.** _The shards._ So your answer was a firm **_no_** to all of the above. You didn't trust his motives one bit.

"I've told you she left me."

"Then apologise."

He stared at you as if you just said something unbelievably stupid, then decided he'd ignore your idea.

"Come and have dinner with me."

"No."

"Wait—"

You slipped back in your room and closed the window. Dropping yourself back on your bed, you continued to check the job searching sites and you heard him call you by your 'nickname'. You suddenly broke out in a smile.

"Come on!" Something hit your window. You glanced at it. Was it a small rock? "I won't leave, and I won't stop doing this."

You walked over to the window again and opened it, glaring at him just when he was picking up a few another rocks. He was _so_ childish! ~~You secretly loved it.~~

"What would make you understand what I've just told you?"

"I will keep inviting you until you say yes."

"You're bloody unbelievable!"

He flashed a heartwarming smirk.

"Come down."

"No!"

You closed the window again, then dropped yourself on your bed and buried your face in your pillow. Another rock hit your window, he started singing – shockingly well – and you had to laugh in your pillow at it.

"Rogue, I'm sorry-y-y, please just come with me-e-e. It's just dinner, not a date, just an apology-y-y."

You got up with still the smile on your face, opened your window and looked at him just when he was about to throw another rock at your window.

"Last occasion", you said and he nodded.

"Last occasion", he agreed.

"Not a date."

"Not a date."

"Ten minutes."

He flashed a childish smile which warmed you up from the inside out. His arms flied up in the air, hands in fists and he exhaled:

_"YES!"_

 

It seemed to him that the fact he brought you here by car no less annoyed you and that this restaurant was rather posh by your standards. He observed you as you were glancing around, though; your black satin blouse was not revealing at all but it still looked so good on you. You didn't wear jewellery, and you had your hair combed to the left side. He found himself watching the light dancing down on your strands as you turned your head to finally look at him.

"What is it?"

Your question made him blink and his eyes found yours.

"Nothing. It's just… your hair looks different."

"Yeah. Sometimes I comb it."

The obvious sarcasm made him smile. He liked it how cheeky, almost rude you were and he wondered briefly if he was a masochist. Surely not, though… or he would've tolerated all the sorts of pain you were in even in this moment. His head ached. His chest ached. His stomach ached. You were torturing yourself, and thus, you were torturing him, and it was enough this evening… he just had to get you here to make sure you ate again.

It seemed you didn't lie yesterday when you said you couldn't function and couldn't take care of yourself properly. This was the proof. And it wasn't good you shared this connection because he couldn't solve your pains by him taking a pill, doing breathing exercises, eating and drinking as much as possible. No. He needed to make sure you took care of yourself, too. Otherwise, it wouldn't work.

"So, what will you have?"

You murmured something as you browsed the menu the waiter just brought to you both. You didn't notice, but Matt saw how the waiter was observing you with a way too friendly smile. But you acted like you didn't even notice it. Matt wondered if you genuinely didn't notice it or just played blind and deaf. He couldn't decide. And he couldn't figure out why not knowing it bothered him. As you both agreed, this was not a date… and you shouldn't be this important to him.

"I don't know", you clicked your tongue as you turned a page. "Perhaps half portion of a chicken salad."

" _Half_ portion?" He echoed and you glanced up at him.

"What's wrong with half portion?"

He blinked at you and smiled.

"When was the last time you ate?" He knew it instantly, because you blushed and suddenly avoided his look. "Don't tell me it was at night with me."

"Why is that a problem?"

Your innocent question started to make him _itch_ in places.

"Half portions are out of the question."

"Aw come on!"

"No. I invited you, you'll eat a plate of food."

"But—"

"Stop arguing with me."

You blushed deeper and huffed angrily, turning back a page. He had to realise again that you were cute when you were angry. Your flashing eyes were worth all of this battling with you. ~~He wondered again if he was a masochist.~~

"Fine." You glanced at a line again. "Grilled chicken with grilled vegetables?"

"Full portion."

You sighed.

"Yes."

"Alright. If that's what you want to eat." You sighed, closed your menu and put it down. He furrowed his brows as he glanced at you. "And what do you want to drink?"

" _God,_ leave me alone already", you whined as you rolled your eyes.

"You have to drink, too."

"Why?"

"Because _I_ said so!"

You murmured something incomprehensible – probably an insult – then chose mineral water. He decided to have the exact same as you. You were nervously glancing around the whole time and since he had been in this place quite a few times, you were more interesting to him, so he kept looking at you. He wondered if that made you nervous in the first place.

"Have you been searching for a new job?" He asked finally and you shot him an angry look.

"Didn't do anything else all day."

"And have you found something?"

"No."

"How did you get your last one?"

"I walked down the street one evening and saw they were hiring. I talked to the boss about it and he hired me." You shrugged. "I liked my job."

"You liked it?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have to deal with people."

He leaned back after he tapped on the table a few times, his eyes never leaving yours. You were a bloody mystery to him. Why were you so isolated?

"You don't like to be around people?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because they freak me out."

"I don't understand."

You blinked at him as if you were trying to understand why didn't he understand. You sighed tiredly and started to play with the napkin next to your hand.

"Since last Christmas I don't really want to socialise."

He tilted his head slightly and spoke as gently as he could.

"What happened last Christmas?"

He immediately felt a stab of pain in his chest. In the past fifteen minutes it ebbed slowly away, and now it was back. He understood at once that this topic was taboo. If this wasn't enough, your eyes darkened immediately.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright."

The waiter was back and Matt watched him… placing the mineral water in front of you and pouring it out for you in a glass. You looked tense and didn't look up, just stared at your glass and thanked him.

"You're very welcome, Miss." The waiter replied silkily. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to call me."

Matt literally could _feel_ your discomfort. For some reason that made him upset.

"Would you please stop leaning so close to my girlfriend? You're making her nervous."

It came out of his mouth so naturally and so fast that he couldn't even stop himself, but when he finished, he didn't feel bad about it at all. You stared at him with wide eyes, your cheeks flushed, and the waiter suddenly changed his attitude, too, visibly keeping his distance now, murmuring apologies before he hurried away… forgetting totally to at least give Matt his water. You stared at him for a few seconds after that and he looked back at you; he didn't say anything and you looked like you nearly exploded with fury. But then, for some reason, you smiled a bit.

"Thanks."

He nodded, half surprised, half pleased.

"You're welcome."

"But I'm not your girlfriend, and I don't want to be."

He broke out in a smile… wondering why did your comment hurt.

"Understood."


	18. C O N N E C T I O N

**Chapter Eighteen**

**____________________**

**C O N N E C T I O N**

 

He felt a bit better when you finally started to send down the food and mostly the water, too. Both of you were quiet, this time, you didn't chit-chat while you were eating. Besides, for some reason, he felt tense ever since you've told him that bit of _'don't want to be'_.

He would've been lying if he stated that he didn't have insecurities himself. He would've been lying if he stated that he never got nervous or anxious because of anything, because just look at him now, he bloody was nervous.

He couldn't put a finger on why, but it was linked to you. This wasn't your nervousness, it was his. And when he asked himself why did that part of your statement bother him he couldn't help but answer or rather, ask back truthfully: _why, is something wrong with me?_ _If there's something wrong with me, what is it?_ This was so strange because he _knew_ you liked Muse and Memory confirmed that you were a fan but – you didn't act like a fan. In fact, sometimes, you acted like the complete opposite. He stabbed his grilled chicken with his fork and started to sink in a bad mood.

He didn't notice his leg started to bounce a bit under the table in his nervousness. ~~But you did.~~

"Do you have a favourite song on our latest album?"

He didn't look at you as he asked this, but he noticed your hands momentarily stopped moving. You were just pushing some veggies on your fork with your knife when he spoke.

"Yes."

When he looked up at you, looking annoyed by your lack of explanation, you smiled a bit. He had no idea but you saw he was sulking for some reason, and again, you thought it was funny. ~~And cute.~~

"And?" He inquired.

"And what?"

"Which one?"

You blinked, then finished pushing veggies on your fork and brought it to your mouth, eating the food. After swallowing it, you shrugged.

"All of them."

"Aw, come on!"

"What is it?"

"I don't believe this."

"No, I'm serious."

You raised your glass to drink when he snorted:

" _Bollocks!_ " You nearly choked on your water because his reaction made you giggle. You covered your mouth with your napkin. "Don't do this to me."

"What? Do you want me to fangirl over you and your musical skills?"

He nearly said _no, of course not,_ but then he visibly pouted and stabbed his chicken again.

"Perhaps."

You were so surprised by his reaction that you actually took it into consideration that he was thinking you lied about liking his music. The thought made you smile again and you shook your head, finishing your last bit of chicken.

"You shouldn't have doubts, you know?" You asked him as you leaned back with the glass of water in your hand.

"Why? I'm a human, too. Of course I have doubts."

"But why about this?" You arched a brow at him. He didn't reply just stabbed his meat again. You knew this was a way to avoid answering, and for some reason, his sulky expression as he kept looking and stabbing his food made you think again, that he was cute… and that strange warmth was back again. Your expression softened. "I really liked Simulation Theory." He didn't look up and didn't say anything, so you finished the last bit of your food. "I think the music you make is like wine; it only gets better and better over the years."

"Why?"

You slightly furrowed your brows as he still didn't look like he wanted to initiate a real talk, so you finally sighed and leaned back.

"I liked the first albums because they were so raw; then you seemed to experiment with more instruments and, for example, the remix of Algorithm after The Void totally blew me away." You suddenly donned a dreamy expression as the song started to automatically play in your mind. "It gave me the chills at the concert when you started with that."

He finally looked back up at you, puzzled.

"Concert?"

"Yes, in June, here in London." You nodded. "It was so awesome."

You wanted to add that it gave you a reason to live after a lot of bad stuff which happened, but you didn't want to make him feel awkward and didn't want to sound weird.

"Were you close to the stage?"

"No, sadly. But with the screens above the stage, I didn't feel left out at all. Which was rather strange; I never experienced any band before doing the same, trying to give the experience to all of those who're there. It was really special."

You couldn't tell you were crying at every song, because you planned with your fiance to go to this concert, but he couldn't be there. Even thinking about the thing was painful as you were three months pregnant when it was December and you would've been due by June… so back in November when you bought the tickets you didn't know if you could actually attend.

The thought brought you a hollow feeling, guilt, emptiness and sudden sadness. You tried hard not to break down right now, but it wasn't easy; he'd been there with you for at least two hours by now and losing your job really took it's toll on you; and remembering the concert made you remember everything you lost. It made things much worse than how they actually were, now.

Things were bad, you realised right there, and there wouldn't be another gig anytime soon which you could attend and blow off some steam. You didn't have your parents, your fiance, your baby… and now, you didn't have your job.

Breaking out in a sob, you suddenly stood up and apologised, heading for the restroom to hide yourself and have a chance to cry it out. Alone.

"Wait—"

He wasn't prepared for the suddenness our your leaving, and he felt terrible for setting you off, even though he didn't know what set you off exactly. You were talking about how much fun you've had at the concert; why did it make you sad?

Since both of you were finished he paid, then waited for you at the restrooms to finally come out. The waiter observed him with furrowed brows but all Matt did was to stare at the man with an angry expression until he turned away. He felt your agony again, and he wished he could do something about it. Anything. At this point he would've done anything to make you feel better.

But _how_?

You came out about twenty minutes later, and faced a patiently waiting, serious-faced Matt, leaned against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets.

"How are you feeling?" He asked you even if he knew; you weren't well, your lashes were still wet, your nose was pinkish… you must've cried a lot.

"I'm fine."

 _Lie._ He swallowed, hesitating, furrowing his brows how to comfort you. He would've known how to comfort a woman, but you were a delicate case, and he didn't want to do anything which would set you off again. Perhaps a hug? Maybe that'd work. When he opened his mouth to ask you if he could do that, you suddenly spoke before him.

"Could you please take me home, now?"

Matt sighed and nodded, extending his right arm for the exit to show you that you should go forward. And you did.

Without a word you both sat in the car – he opened the door for you and waited for you to get in –, and as you put the seat belt on, he sat in too. Removing a business card and a pen from his inner pocket, he started to write down his personal number and personal e-mail for you.

"I'd like you to know that you could contact me at any time", he muttered quietly and he knew you were watching him as he wrote everything down. "You really can. Call me whenever you want, okay?"

Your throat tightened significantly and the tightness in your chest was back. Why was he doing this? Why did he think you deserved this? Why you?

"Why?" You finally managed to push through your anxiety and he glanced at you with those bright blue eyes ~~you loved so much~~.

"Promise me you'll call if you need me."

He offered you the card. You hesitated… you'd feel like you'd bother him, you were sure of it. But you still moved your hand slowly to take the card from him, careful not to overstep your boundaries and touch his hand.

"I can't", you whispered.

He let go of the card and you pulled it slowly to yourself, half determined to flush it down the toilet so you wouldn't abuse your sudden privilege, when Matt reached after your hand. When he touched you, you both felt that sudden, powerful heartbeat which shook you both to your cores. You saw his pupils visibly widened and you couldn't help but glance at his lips as he slowly parted them in awe.

Were you feeling this? The thought wandered around in his head as he observed your confused expression. Or you were just shocked by the fact he so suddenly touched you?

" _Promise me_ ", he whispered in a hushed tone and a chill danced down your spine which felt straight delicious.

You saw he glanced at your lips when you licked them before you spoke, then he glanced back up in your eyes, making you forget anything and everything that bothered you, even stopping the time itself.

"I promise", you finally breathed out.

Matt forced himself to let you go, and the moment was gone. You were both very quiet during the car ride back to your apartment. You sat silently for a few moments before you got your seat belt off, staring forward, wondering what was that earlier.

"Thank you for the dinner", you said quietly.

"You're welcome."

You suddenly realised he was looking at you. You glanced back at him, noticing a certain tension in the car between you two which didn't exist before. You cleared your throat.

"Goodnight", he offered.

"Goodnight", you nodded, then opened the door, got out, closed it, then walked up the stairs and unlocked the door to the house where your apartment was.

When you glanced back, he was still waiting in his car; keeping himself to his word he'd watch you get inside yourself. As you locked the door back in, you've heard the car speed away.

"What the hell was this", you muttered to yourself.


	19. W A I T I N G

**Chapter Nineteen**

**______________**

**W A I T I N G**

 

He was wondering all night in that hotel room about you and the moment when your hands touched.

You touched him before – or rather, slapped him –, but that still was a touch, and what happened today didn't happen back then. Obviously, after all of this, he was slightly amazed how it affected him, and as he observed you during it, he could see that you felt it too. Your pupils widened, you glanced at his lips, you were giving him signs that he had quite the effect on you.

There were too many things which happened that evening and confused him, and he wished he knew all the answers to everything. Such as: why did he feel bad when you told him that today's dinner together would be the last occasion? Or why did he feel the need to protect you from people who made you feel uncomfortable and unsafe? Why did he have to tell off that waiter and why did it hurt when you said after it that you didn't want him to be your boyfriend?

Okay-okay. Matt happened to have an ego. A rather large one. He loved to be in the centre of all attention, and he liked to know that people wanted to be in his presence. This was normal, some people stated. The breaking up of his parents when he was a teenager and the fact he felt lonely almost all the time made him really want some company. He'd spent too long periods of time alone…

He realised in that moment as he was thinking about this that you always seemed like you **_didn't_** want to be in his presence. You fought hard all the time. Even today he had to try and persuade you to be with him what felt like an incredibly long time, considering you were supposed to be a fan and most of his fans would run after Muse's car, chased the tour bus, tried to get close to them in every possible way – while you **_didn't_**. And this was weird to him. That he had to actually _fight_. Asking himself if it was worth it was met by an immediate **_of course it did_** ; even yesterday, your anxieties faded away for at least a little time and you sent down the food and then…

He fucked it all up. Again.

Matt turned on his side in his dark room on his bed and buried his face in his pillow. He let out a quiet whine and pulled his knees up to his chest. Yes, he fucked up, and now he still had this bloody chest pain with which you fought yourself in this very same moment. He wanted to find out how to make it all go away, but every possible idea he had wasn't just good enough. You wouldn't let him closer, and you wouldn't tolerate him for longer periods of time.

 ** _But why?_** It didn't make **_any_** sense!

Why couldn't you tolerate his presence? If he himself asked you to go with him somewhere, why did it feel like you didn't want to? What held you back? Were you afraid?

He opened his eyes and stared at the wall with a hollow feeling.

_She's afraid._

Now **_that_** would make sense. He'd been there, himself. Afraid to open up to be rejected and left alone again… he recalled the things you've told him.

_"_ _I don't want to talk."_

_"And why not?"_

_"Because you're going to disappear."_

Was it this simple? That you were simply afraid he'd leave you after a while after he got what he wanted?

He wouldn't disappear. He'd promise he wouldn't. Now that you lost your job he'd even offer you to go to Devon with him. His house was big enough; and if you'd be around him, he'd have quicker ways to contact you if you're battling with your pains. The calmness of the country could also help you with your problems. Now, it didn't sound like a too bad of a thought to him.

Then he snorted as he imagined asking you _move in with me_ – he could clearly see the shock written on your face, then you'd laugh or would _visibly_ think he's insane (you'd probably tell him that, too) and you'd say no so quickly that you wouldn't even think about it.

But for some reason he wished you would. And for some reason, he wished you'd say yes.

It wasn't easy at all that he had another life going on with Kate and Bingham in it; he was planning earlier that he'd go back to LA and spend quality time with his son. And now here he was, in this hotel in London, and he tried very hard to solve the mystery which was you. He shouldn't give a shit, really. You told him many times you didn't want his help and his company, and he should heed your advices.

Except, if you suffered from your chest pain, he'd feel it, and if you tried to kill yourself, he'd feel that, too. Would he be able to live with the thought that he could prevent you from doing that?

The answer was **_no_**.

So as it was right now… his own life had to wait now. He'd need to somehow set things right in yours, first. Perhaps he could get you professional help? He groaned. You'd totally tell him to piss off if he got you an appointment with a psychologist (which he would pay, as you just lost your job… because of him).

But if you weren't about to open up to him, what else could he do? If you so much judged him for looking after you as a friend of some sort, what would you think if he told you that he felt when you were suffering? You'd blame yourself. You'd make it worse for both of you, even unconsciously.

Even though it didn't feel like to him that you and him were on the level of friends. That moment of your shared touch still made chills run down his spine, and he couldn't put a finger on it why it happened – he was very certain that things were shifting. Slowly, but shifting.

He decided that all he could do was to wait for now. Maybe wait until you called. He _hoped_ you'd call. He never would admit it, but he _wanted_ you to call.

He never would admit it, but… he missed your voice.

 

Three agonizingly silent and slow days later he woke up early with a throbbing pain in his gut.

This was most unusual. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his face with his hands before he checked the time – hair standing in all places as usual – and he realised it was 7.32 AM. Matt blinked at his personal phone. No missed calls. He knew there weren't as he didn't set it to mute, but he was still slightly sad that you didn't ring him at all.

Sighing, he unlocked his phone and typed up a text for Bingham. As he was doing it, he nearly dropped his phone twice from the intense pain. What was it? What did this feel like? He groaned as he slipped a hand on his lower tummy with a frown.

Ten minutes later he thought this waiting game be damned, he'd bloody check up on you again. Dressed in incognito as much as possible, he made his way to your apartment, nervousness tightly gripping his intestines as he tapped on his steering wheel. Should he yell up to you again? You'd just send him away but at least he'd see you were okay.

Then you suddenly walked out of the door of the house your apartment was in. As you turned around he tried to take in what did he see… you, dressed in pitch black high heels, tights, a mini-skirt, blazer…

_What the fuck is going on?_

When you noticed him as you turned to walk down the stairs he could feel the car warm up on it's own. Matt lowered the window on his side and called out to you.

"Need a lift?"

You had make up on and your hair was in a neat bun on the top of your head. Why were you—why the hell did you look like this? You looked so different from how he usually saw you, different from the black jeans and shirts and sweaters… what were you up to, and why did you feel anxious?

You huffed and turned without saying a word, bringing the long strap of your pitch black little bag on your right shoulder. Seeing you walk away gave him a great opportunity to check out your derriere, which he totally did before he could stop himself. He swallowed. You looked too professional, too business-like, too… bloody hell, _just too_ _beautiful_.

There was no way he'd let you walk down the streets alone like this.

"Where are you going?"

You didn't even slow down or replied, so he quickly got out of his car, locked it then ran after you. Despite your heels you stepped little steps, it wasn't hard for him to catch up to you.

"You're a rather enthusiastic stalker", you observed and Matt rolled his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"What makes you think that's your business?"

"You're dressed up nicely."

"You're such a good observer, Matt. Kudos."

He rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Do you have a date?"

You finally stopped walking and he did, too. You turned and he suddenly forgot how to breathe when he saw your face from this close; the make up you had on was emphasising the beautiful shade of your (y/e/c) eyes, and you lips looked thicker than usual with the lipstick you had on. He noticed you were using colours which perfectly matched the colour of your hair and eyes. You totally knew what you were doing. You were breathtaking.

"Is that the first thought you had in mind when you saw me?"

For some reason your question made him fidget with the edge of the bottom of his hoodie. Why did he even _care_ if you had a date? God, why did he even ask this?? You were right if you said it wasn't his business. He had no right to be so nosy. He felt so stupid as he ran a nervous hand in his messed up hair.

"Answer my question", he almost demanded desperately.

You hesitated and it was the longest five seconds of his bloody life, thinking he wouldn't survive it if you said yes, but not knowing exactly why did he feel like this way.

"No. I'm not going on a date."

You turned away and he secretly but very much obviously breathed out in relief, briefly closing his eyes for a moment and thinking _thank God_ before he quickly started following you again.

"Then why are you so formal?"

You audibly sighed.

"I have an interview."

"What sort of a job will it be?"

He saw you turned your head to look up at the morning sky. He had no idea but you were silently pleading for patience.

"Will you answer me?" His usually deep tone sounded a little bit higher. He was inches from losing his cool. "Please? Why is it so hard for you to talk to me?"

"I don't talk to people."

"Well then, change your mind, let me be the exception."

You stopped walking and looked at him. You silently steeled yourself, forcing yourself to say what needed to be said. But when you saw his pleading face you just forgot every damned word you prepared in the past three days. He saw what you had in mind and he knew he wouldn't like it, so he just tried his best to make you rethink whatever was on your tongue by looking outstandingly lost.

"You don't have to protect me", you pointed it out. "Why can't you understand? I'm not in danger."

Matt shook his head and ran a hand in his hair again. By now, it was completely, totally messed up.

"This is complicated. Even for me. I can't explain it to you but I can't help myself. Ever since the in-between I just…" He finally made eye contact with you again and promptly lost in your eyes. Swallowing, he made a gesture with his arms – raising them up in a way to say _this is what it is._ "Show me mercy. Please. I'm trying not to get on your nerves but if you push me back, I just feel the need to be even closer."

"What would help this?"

Your question shocked him. He raised his shoulders and shook his head.

"I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps just talk. Let's just talk."

You sighed.

"Alright. I'll have this interview then we can talk somewhere."

"Can I come with you?"

At this, you couldn't help but finally smile.

"You can wait for me outside until I'm done."

He smiled, too… both of you feeling that certain warmth around your hearts.

"Thank you."


	20. I N T E R V I E W

Chapter twenty

________________

I N T E R V I E W

 

You at least were prepared for the interview, or so you've felt like. As soon as you greeted your new boss-to-be, you knew you chose the blazer well. Especially with that V-neck shirt underneath… the man didn't look like he didn't like it at all.

Then he began asking you questions, the usual bullshit questions future bosses ask every time someone goes to an interview. _Where do you see yourself in five years?_ At this rate you saw yourself in the cemetery in five years. _Why do you think you're the one we're looking for?_ Because you're desperate enough to do literally any sort of shit job, including this, for money.

Then the interview had an interesting turn. The man finally closed his notebook in which he wrote up a few things after you answered each question, and smiled at you. He wasn't a bad looking guy; he had dark chocolate skin, gentle hand when you shook it, warm chocolate eyes, short black hair and _impossibly_ thick lips. And the way he was sizing you up you could tell he liked what he saw, too.

"Now, if you agree, let's be a bit unprofessional", he said in his deep baritone, intertwining his fingers on top of his closed notebook. You waited after a nod. "Do you have a family?"

The question struck you, you weren't prepared for this. You cleared your throat in your awkwardness then finally pushed out.

"No, sir."

"Oh. How come?"

 _Jesus Christ._ Not **_this_** again. The throbbing pain in your chest which ebbed away during the interview was back.

"I prefer to be alone."

Your answer didn't push him back.

"And do you go to pubs?"

"No, sir. I mostly spend time home alone; my only hobby is painting."

"Oh, really?" He smiled warmly at you. You still felt slightly uncomfortable. "Then I can't invite you for a drink, can I?"

"I'm sorry sir, but no."

Drinking in your case would significantly worsen your nightmares and anxieties, no way you'd use that. Still, the man seemed to be persistent.

"Then what about a cup of coffee, now, after this interview?"

You hesitated. One, for some reason, you really wanted to be with Matt if he was still waiting for you outside. It'd be foolishness to say that you didn't want to be near him, and that the past three days without seeing him took so much toll on you that you were reconsidering calling him after this interview if he didn't show up. Second, you barely knew this man, and you were still very cautious about letting anyone close. So you smiled sadly at him.

"I'm sorry sir, I already have scheduled brunch with a friend of mine", you said, hoping he wouldn't take it bad, but to your utter luck, he took it well.

"Ah, that's alright. I'm glad to hear you have friends." He smiled at you warmly, then leaned back and picked up his notebook. "I'll contact you if we've decided at the company if you're hired."

"Thank you, sir", you muttered, knowing well what this meant… you won't ever called back here. "It was very nice to meet you."

"You too, Miss (y/l/n)", he shook your hand when you held it out for him, then you picked up your bag and left quickly.

You found Matt typing something on his phone near the entrance. You stopped near him and he glanced up, surprised.

"That was quick", he noted.

"Interviews are quick."

"Not for me", he broke out in a smile as he finished and sent the message, then promptly put his phone away and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, can we go?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have any favourite places?"

"I don't really go out…"

"Then come on, I had something in mind."

You nearly rolled your eyes when he said that, but he let you go forward through the exit and opened the door of his car for you. Sitting in, he closed it and you put on the seat belt, humming when he sat inside, too. He hummed back as he started up the car.

"I hope it's not an expensive place", you muttered.

"Why does it bother you? I'll pay."

You sighed angrily.

"You can't keep doing this."

"Why?"

"Because you're embarrassing me!"

He stopped the car before a red light and glanced at you. Suddenly, you felt warm.

"What do you mean I'm embarrassing you?"

You were thinking about lying, but you were too tired of trying to make up excuses for him, so you shrugged.

"I don't want you to think I'm hanging out with you for your money."

He blinked stupidly.

"What? Why would I think that?" At his question you shrugged. "First of all, I'm the one inviting you and secondly, I wouldn't think you're with me for it since I have to battle you every damned time to hang out with me. It should be much easier to get you out of your apartment if you wanted my wealth. Besides… I don't really give a damn about money."

"But I do", you murmured and he sighed.

"Seriously? Is this what you want to talk about?" You stayed stubbornly silent. "How did the interview go?"

You munched on your own lips from the inside out, rather nervously.

"It was fine."

"Really?"

The tone of his question made you think. How could he detect you were lying?

"The guy who did the interview actually…" You paused as you had no idea how would he react. "He was a bit pushy."

"Pushy? What do you mean?" Matt hummed.

"He asked me if I'm going to pubs, probably to ask me to go somewhere with him." You paused, noticing his hands tightened a bit on the steering wheel. _It bothers him,_ you thought, and for some reason, it made you smile. "When I told him I don't go to pubs and don't drink, he asked me if I wanted to have a coffee instead, now, after the interview." Matt remained eerily quiet. You leaned back in your seat, still smiling. "I told him I can't."

 _God, **no** ,_ it was happening **_again_**. Why did he feel so **mad** at some random bloke asking you out? And why did you talk about it so easily with him? What was going on in his head?? It wasn't his business if you went for a coffee or to a pub with anyone, he shouldn't care, so why did he??

"Maybe you should've said yes and told me not to wait for you", he muttered quietly, but even the idea hurt him.

"What?"

Your question made him look at you for a moment before he glanced back at the traffic instead.

"You're fighting me every time anyway. Perhaps another guy would be uh… better company?"

You were silent for a few seconds, then you snorted.

"I know I asked you this already, but… are you an idiot?" When he didn't reply just half smiled at the road, you glanced out of the window on your side. "I'm like this with everyone. You're not getting any special treatment because there isn't any. I don't like to be around people." You paused and he didn't say anything. "I mean… I sort of… missed you…" He started to feel incredibly happy for some reason, and he smiled a big smile at the road. "But that must be because you barely let me be alone lately."

"I won't apologise for that", Matt stated with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.

"Would you apologise for anything?" You inquired and he chuckled.

"Nah, don't think so."

As you both remained quiet in the car for a while, you noticed he started to tap on the steering wheel. It was hard not to notice that he was always fidgeting with something, some part of him was always moving, and even though it should've been annoying, it wasn't. You wondered if he did this because he was nervous, or he was like this all the time. You didn't really watch interviews with the band, you mainly remained at their songs and watched a video clip or two occasionally, but you weren't a 'hardcore' fan who consumed _everything_ they ever made. Especially in the last six months.

Arriving at the place he stopped the car, and you removed your seat belt. You realised he did, too, but for some reason he didn't move to get out. You glanced at him; and your eyes met immediately.

"I'd like to ask a favour", he suddenly broke out.

You arched both of your brows a bit and he suddenly felt anxious to ask something like this from you. He turned to face you properly, and you felt a blush creeping up on your face.

"What sort of a favour?" You asked softly when he still didn't speak.

One of his legs started to anxiously bounce up and down. Just a little, but it was still visible.

"I know it'd… I know it sounds crazy, but…" His expression changed, he looked like he was having problems how to word what he wanted to say. You waited patiently. "I think—I think that uh… maybe, maybe you should, uh…"

"Spit it out, I won't bite your head off", you told him when he fell silent.

"Fine." He sighed, then the words rushed out of him before he could stop them from spilling, looking anywhere but at you, "My son and his mother comes over here to London so they could come and see Dom and Chris bungee jumping and I was thinking you could come with us too."

He inhaled sharply when he was done and finally glanced back up at your face, finding that you stared at him as if this time, he slapped you. You couldn't even understand what was this about at first. You blinked stupidly, leaving him in awkward silence and agony as he waited for your reaction rather anxiously. You said to him a few days ago that _that_ dinner would be the _last_ occasion and here you were, he took you to _another_ , and now he asked you for **_another??_** _What was going on?_

"Why should I be there?" You managed to ask.

"Because—because I think… that you should be there. I'd like you to be there." He paused. "With me."

You pulled a bit away from him and against the door of the car and thought through his offer; his son and his son's mother? Did that mean he was talking about— no way. Even meeting Dom and Chris sounded crazy but Kate Hudson and their son?? What was he thinking??

"Is this some kind of joke you're playing on me?" You asked coolly.

"What? No-no-no, I'm not… it's not like that…"

"Because that _really_ would be cruel."

"I'm not thinking that this—I don't mean to—"

"Do you want to show off to others how pathetic I am?"

"No!" He unconsciously leaned closer to you as he tried desperately to make you understand. "You're not pathetic at all! I'd never think that way about you!"

"Then why do you want to bring a no-name woman to a family gathering?" You nearly demanded.

"Because you make me feel _I'm not alone_!" Matt blurted out, then leaned back against the door on his side, pulled his hand up to his mouth and bit on his thumb. "Aw, fuck…" He muttered as he stared out of the window on his own side. "I'd feel shit."

"Why would you feel shit?"

You saw he swallowed and you could feel sadness – but that sadness wasn't yours. This was different. You observed him with a curious look on your face.

"I just want you to be there." He eyed you again, leg still bouncing, brows moving in a certain way that again, he looked like a lost puppy. "Please? I'll do anything you want."

 _"Anything?"_ You suddenly burst out in laughter.

"Anything", he confirmed and you laughed louder. "What's so funny?"

"You're so unbelievable… fine." You shook your head, you couldn't believe what has gotten into him and into you, but you wanted to be near him just as much as he wanted to be near you. He didn't say properly, but you felt the same way as he did. And you'd try and… overlook… some things. Somehow, you'd need to overcome your insecurities. "When will it be?"

"Tomorrow."

_"Tomorrow??"_

He bit into his lower lip, hard, as you stared at him befuddled.

"Yeah. Will you come? I can pick you up around 8."

You stared at him as you thought. This could be a mean game if it was just for their entertainment, but why would he lie? And when he said that with you he didn't feel alone, why did you feel like he was telling you the truth? As you were thinking, he let out a quiet, desperate noise.

 _"Please",_ he muttered. "I don't want to be there alone."

Even though you knew this was straight manipulation, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him, and you let out a tired sigh.

"Alright. I'll go."

"Yay!"

"But I'm remembering that 'I'll do anything' part!"

"You better", he chuckled, "try and figure out what would you like."

You had a few ideas… and weren't sure they would be appropriate to say.


	21. J U M P

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of all: I am not sorry.  
> Second of all: I am **_totally_** not sorry.
> 
> Happy reading! :)

**Chapter twenty-one**

**________**

**J U M P**

 

"Can I ask something?" You were sitting at a table and sipped very good quality coffee. He hummed and glanced at you questioningly. "How old is your son?"

"He's seven. School is over for him. Usually we stay a month or two in Devon during the summer." You nodded a few times. "Why do you ask?"

"Is it safe to go bungee jumping for a seven year old?"

He furrowed his brows slightly.

"It's not that high. And we're told it's totally safe."

You shifted a bit uncomfortably. You didn't want to admit you wouldn't let a kid his age do such a thing, but he was Matt's son, and Matt knew better than you, obviously.

"I will probably zone out", you admitted suddenly.

"Zone out? What do you mean?"

You bit your lower lip and glanced out of the window. Matt observed you as you did… following the line of your neck, your jawline and glancing at your lips for a moment.

"I mean I'll be probably quiet and I'll look like I'm not even there."

"That's fine", he reassured you and you looked back at him.

"Is it?"

"Of course it is." He smiled and a horde of butterflies suddenly decided to throw a party in your stomach. "I just want you to be near me while we're there."

You sipped the last of your coffee and watched him with a smile. You didn't know why, but his reply made you tingle all around again. Neither of you talked anymore, but you certainly felt that something was different again, there was this certain… pull towards him, and you couldn't keep your eyes off of him. He seemed like he had the same difficulties. Even if he fidgeted and bounced one or both of his legs and smiled as he observed the café around you, his eyes always wandered back on you.

"Can I take you home?" He asked when you were both done with your coffee.

He didn't want to, but he knew you'd soon request it anyway, so he wanted to be a gentleman and offer it. You smiled at him; making his heart go crazy because of it.

"Yes, please, thank you. And thank you for the coffee."

"It's nothing."

You shook your head with still the smile and he asked himself over and over again, **_heart, what the fuck are you doing?!_**

The way back was silent, but you kept observing him, trying to memorize all of the details of his face more and more to be able to capture and immortalize it even better in paintings. He glanced at you twice when he had to stop because of red lights, making you blush and messing up your heartbeat with the little smiles you were sure he kept for you.

"See you tomorrow, then", he said when he pulled over and you nodded.

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

There was a split second when you were sure he wanted to **_do_** something, but **_what_** , you had no idea. You just felt like he'd move. But then, the moment was gone, and he waved, so you got out and ran up in your apartment to listen to shitty romantic songs and continue painting.

 

The next morning arrived too quickly and you realised you didn't know what to put on. _Be professional,_ you told yourself, but you couldn't figure out how to be professional at a mainly family gathering (and not your family gathering, that is). You decided to take it easy. A black lady's shirt, leather coat which stopped around your waist, black jeans and stainless steel boots… you didn't want to impress anyone, you'd be yourself, even in the presence of the members of your favourite band.

You just finished making your hair in a bun on the top of your head when you heard three quick, short honks of a car. You knew who's car it was. Smiling like an idiot, you picked up your small black bag (the same as yesterday), and ran down the stairs after you locked your apartment. The car was there, as you suspected… but there was no one else inside only him.

"Mornin'", he muttered as he started driving after you put on your seat belt.

"Good morning", you replied quietly.

That ticklish feeling from yesterday was back the moment he glanced at you. He flashed a smile, just like yesterday, and the car started to become positively _hot_. Again, just like yesterday, you didn't really talk, just took in your own feelings, tried to figure out what they meant, and tried not to enjoy it too obviously.

Half an hour later you arrived to your destination where the rest of his band, Kate and Bing were waiting.

"Don't panic", said Matt as you removed the seat belt.

He already felt your chest pain started to creep back in right now, and he wanted to make sure you wouldn't feel so bad around them… after all, this was just a little trip. He'd take you home once it's over and until then, you should have some fun instead of being completely alone in your apartment. He wouldn't admit, but he cared… and didn't want you to be alone. Specifically, he didn't want you to be away from him. Realising this made him pause in his movements.

"I'm not panicking", you muttered as you opened the door at the same time as he did.

_"DAD!"_

You saw his son ran to greet him and Matt caught and picked him up immediately, and the sight was so heartwarming that you had to actually stop, turn around and stare up at the gloomy looking sky to cover your smile. How will you survive this? _Gosh! **How??**_

"Are you Rogue?"

You turned around, surprised, when you heard the voice talking to you, and your eyes met with Dom's. Smiling, you nodded.

"Yes, I am. Good morning", you offered and he broke out in a big, full-teeth smile.

"He's found you, then? He didn't shut up about you for days during the last few days of our tour, and he totally drew us insane."

 _Oh really?_ He didn't _shut up_ about you for _days?_

"Yeah?" You felt the blush crept up on your face and you suddenly had so many questions that you barely could keep your mouth shut. But to keep things _professional_ , you forced yourself. "He found me, alright."

"We thought you didn't exist", Chris stopped near you two and they both sized you up with a smirk.

 _Screw it._ You blushed up to your ears.

They realised they left something in the trunk so you remained alone. As Matt and Bing had their reunion chat from about ten meters away from you, you decided to stay nearby and pretend you weren't completely lost without him near the lake where the bungee jumping would take place. ~~You were.~~ You sensed someone stopped next to you, and when you glanced at them, it turned out it was Kate. It was so surreal. You've only seen faces today – except Bing's – whom you only saw around the 'net and the telly before.

"Good morning", you greeted her and she arched a brow.

"Are you his new girlfriend?"

Her question surprised you, and you nearly blushed. Just nearly.

"No", you replied. "I'm a friend."

"Friend?" She arched a brow. Then she sized you up. You didn't like the look on her face. "I doubt it."

"Pardon?"

"He never brings anyone along if he's not interested in them. In some way, anyway. Be careful."

You furrowed your brows. What the hell was she on about?

"Why should I be careful?"

She smiled at you.

"He's going to get close to you, seep into the cracks of your life, then he'll break your heart."

You furrowed your brows.

"We're not—I'm not looking for a partner and he knows that, I told him", you tried to make her understand, but she visibly didn't believe you.

"I see the way you look at him." She smiled, sad. "And I see the way he looks at you." Did he look at you in her presence?? When?? Why didn't you see?? What did Kate see which you didn't?? _What the Hell was going on?!_ "There's _something_ , obviously." _Obviously_ , she said. What's so bloody **obvious**? Were you **_oblivious_**? "But he has some problems... alcohol, non-existent fidelity..." She paused, then sighed. "I like you, thus I give you an advice. Don't let him close. You do whatever you want, but remember I've warned you."

You stared at her befuddled, then your expression suddenly smoothed out.

"Thank you. But there's really no need. If he tried to hit on me, I'll turn him down."

" _Would_  you?"

Kate walked after Bing and Matt, and you stared after her; doubting yourself too that you would... even if his own ex just warned you. Or did she really? What if what she said was lies? If she misled you? You decided to think about this later.

Chris and Dom kept chatting about something behind you and you didn't want to eavesdrop, so you remained alone, invisible as always.

Then you went up with them to the top from where they would jump down.

You couldn't believe you were there, accompanying them to bungee jumping. Heights didn't really bother you, but you would've been lying if you said that you wanted to jump yourself. You should've stayed down below next to the lake with Kate, but when you were asked if you'd stay —the way Matt looked at you changed your mind. Even if you still thought this sport still looked too dangerous.

And you were right about that.

Bing decided to jump after 'uncle' Dom himself who was dared by Chris and did it (with obvious screams of fear). You watched how the instructor put the belts around his small body while he chatted with Dom and Chris, and you couldn't help but feel like that this was not safe for a kid at all. He looked _so_ small. You thought he'd jump with an adult, but for some reason, he could go alone. Perhaps you were overreacting...

Matt observed rather you than the situation at the moment and he picked up your nervousness about the situation immediately. You were observing his son with a certain look on your face — was it worry? But why were you worrying? And why did that thought make him feel so… gentle about you?

"He'll be fine", he told you softly and you glanced at him with a small smile which, again, made his heart misbehave.

"Yeah. I know."

"Okay Mr Bellamy, you can go when you feel like it", the instructor told Bing who glanced back at Matt who nodded reassuringly.

"It's going to be fine. Don't worry. You're safe."

The boy hesitated for a few seconds, then he turned and looked down. Your stomach turned and you made an unconscious quarter step, drawing Matt's attention to yourself again, but you didn't look back at him. There was something wrong about this situation, you felt like something would go wrong.

And it did.

Bing jumped — and to your utter horror, for some reason, the rope remained up there on the ledge. It wasn't attached to Bing when he jumped. The instructor put the vest on him properly but forgot to put the most important part on, possibly because he was chatting away.

There was a heartbeat when you didn't know what to do, then moved as fast as you could towards the edge.

The echoing screams of Kate from below shook you, and you didn't think or hesitate as you jumped after Bing. You reached out after him with your hands — willing to pull him in your arms. There was a moment when he nearly crashed into the water; he was facing you, he looked impossibly small... then he started to float back up, towards you.

Halfway he crashed against your body and you wrapped your arms around him tightly, quickly turning around in the air so you'd be at the bottom, so it'd be you who'd hit the water which, from the height you jumped off from would pretty much feel like **_concrete_**.

But you did not care.

Bing wailed and held onto you tightly and you tried your best to reduce the force of your bodies hitting the water... you turned on your left side in the last moment to protect your spine. Then you released him as soon as the air was knocked out of you. There was nothing but blinding, surging pain in every inch of your body; there were pain in places you had no idea it could even hurt. The worst was your head; you felt like it cracked open.

Your last thought was that at least he had a life jacket on as you sunk down in the warm water, the last sight being Bing, floating near the surface of the water, swimming away safely as you tried desperately to swim yourself, but it hurt too much. You fainted.

 

Matt saw what you did only a split second later and he moved at the exact same moment as you did. He heard Kate's scream and he wanted to scream, too, but there was no time as he watched you jump straight after his child.

He wanted to move after you but Chris got a hold of him. He yelled something — slurred words of protests and insults — when you hit the water.

He  _knew_  you hit the water. He  ** _felt_**  it. He froze and couldn't breathe, he was suffocating as much as you did.

He passed out in the same moment as you; collapsing unconscious with Chris and Dom shouting in unison to call an ambulance. Everyone seemed to lose their minds and had a hard time to process what did actually happen.

Only an hour later with both of you in hospital did reality start to hit them. Bing — unharmed, although very upset — refused to leave the arms of his mother as they waited for the news. They knew you had several severe injuries, and the doctors were working on you to their best knowledge. They didn't say exactly, but when they told the news to Chris, Dom, Kate and Bing that you were battling hard, the adults immediately knew that your condition was critical.

You were hanging by a thread between life and death.

Matt, however, was another case entirely; his condition had the doctors stand above him scratching their heads. He was showing the signs of being in a coma, but nobody could explain why. He had no physical injuries. They decided to put him on machines, just in case, and thought it'd be best if they took care of you, first.

Three hours into your emergency surgery, your heart stopped.

And so did Matt's.


	22. W H I T E

**Chapter twenty-two**

**___________**

**W H I T E**

 

Everything was so shiny.

You touched the glowing white wall with your hand and smiled briefly. Here, nothing hurt. Here, you were at peace. The troubles of your life felt they were far away and you could almost feel the end was—

"Don't do this to us."

You turned around, surprised, facing Matt. For some reason he was wearing a white shirt and pants, his hands in his pocket, brown hair disheveled as always. You blinked at him.

"Do what?" You had to force yourself to remember him. The last memories of your life came back gently and you smiled. "It'd be a good death. I saved him."

Matt walked closer to you with a soft frown.

"Don't die."

You blinked.

"Why shouldn't I?"

He tilted his head a bit.

"I'd terribly miss you."

"You have your family, friends and fans, but—"

"But I want you to live." He walked up to you slowly. You didn't move. Matt half smiled. "So, live. It'll be worth it. I promise."

You hesitated, he took your hands and you both felt a strong beat of your heart.

The doctors were just about to give up when this happened, and your and Matt's sign to go on encouraged them to continue, doctors and nurses fighting for both of your lives in separate rooms of the hospital.

You stared up in his eyes.

"Come back with me, to me", he said softly, "and I'll make the pain go away."

When he leaned close to you and his forehead touched yours, you knew you'd go back, despite what that meant.

 

After thirteen hours of intense surgery, your vital signs were strong enough to let you rest. Still in intensive care, you forgot the encounter at the white place in your sleep, but as your heart was beating, so did Matt's.

The others didn't know... but you both felt that things would be alright.

Twenty hours after you hit the water, Matt Bellamy slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Groaning, he gently moved, every inch of him in intense pain. He whimpered and felt there was something in his hand; the small device with a button to call a nurse. He pressed it.

Five minutes later a woman showed up in his room with a man, the latter looking like a doctor.

"Mr Bellamy, you're awake", the man said quietly and checked Matt.

"B—Bi... Bing", Matt murmured softly.

"Bingham, your son is perfectly fine, not a scratch, Mr Bellamy."

Matt couldn't be less tense.

"Where's... she?"

The nurse hurried out when the doctor glanced at her, and a few minutes later she was back with Kate. Matt groaned. No, he didn't mean Kate. He meant **_you_**. He tossed the blanket off of himself and pushed himself up to sit, despite the doctor told him not to.

" _She_ ", he mumbled, "is in pain."

"Who?"

The doctor blinked at Matt befuddled and he didn't have the patience. His mouth and lips were dry, he had trouble breathing, he flexed his fingers over and over again because they hurt, too. Helpless tears gathered in his eyes. Why didn't anyone understand?

"She's... in pain", he repeated and reached out to Kate to help him. She did without a word, letting him get up despite it wasn't advised. She saw he wasn't in the condition to argue. Best let him have what he wanted. "I need... to see her..."

"I'm sorry sir but that wouldn't be a good id—"

"Now."

Matt shot a look at the doctor who sighed, then led the way for the both of them, stopping them before the door of the room you were in.

"Sir", the doctor started but Matt reached the end of his patience.

"Move", he growled, pushing the man out of the way and opening the door, pulling a reluctant Kate after himself as he wasn't sure he was strong enough to look at the truth alone.

You looked like you were just sleeping in the bed, but he saw the IV in your arm, the machines around you he only saw in movies before. The sight of the mask on your face startled him a bit; your face was so pale, the circles under your eyes were so dark... the casts on your arm, hand and leg... the white net-like bandage around your head and a piece of… bloody… cloth…

"She's stable", the doctor said, "for now."

Matt didn't say anything, just slowly let go of Kate's hand, and sat on the edge of your bed, not even taking his eyes off of your face. You weren't awake.

"Hey", he said quietly, "you tough… super heroine." Smiling, he felt those helpless tears gathering in his eyes again. Talking was hard; his chest hurt way too much. "Hold on, okay? I'm here… now… not moving an inch… you're not alone."

"Sir, I don't think she'd—"

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Kate asked the doctor and he said yes, leaving the two of you alone.

Matt didn't even notice. He glanced at your left side; you hit that the worst, your right side was somewhat okay but the pain he felt concentrated itself on the left side of his everything: head, shoulder, ribs, arm, hand, waist and leg. He glanced at the machines and checked them out; seeing that your heartbeat was steady and normal. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands when he felt that he couldn't take the sight anymore.

He stayed like that for a really long time, breathing heavily to avoid breaking down completely. He nearly lost his son, and here he was, almost losing you instead. He was so grateful he couldn't even put it into words; you saved his boy without thinking, without being afraid of the consequences.

You jumped to certain death without thinking.

 **_What_ ** _were you thinking?!_

You were only thinking about saving Bing, you didn't care what happened to you. You didn't care if you died trying, you just wanted to save his son.

That thought finally broke his walls down. He sobbed quietly for a few minutes, then forced himself to stop as he had no idea when would Kate come back. He found hankies on your nightstand.

"I'll borrow some, okay?" He sniffled, then blew his nose and rubbed the throbbing left side of his face. Now that he was sitting, he could breathe a bit better, but not much. "Ah, _fuck_. You're so bloody stubborn, you know? I just told you I wanted you to be with me and what did you do? Jumped off and shattered yourself." He paused for a moment and broke out in a sob again. "This isn't fair", he whimpered as he kept wiping his tears away. "Not fair, you know? Not fair I'm stuck with all of your pain and you force me to deal with it on my own. And it's not fair that you're alone with it. We're both so bloody lonely, why can't you just finally accept that I'm here for you?"

He shook his head and saw something from the corner of his eye. **MORPHINE** , stated a machine. Matt followed the line of the thin tube running right to your right hand, under your skin through a needle. He furrowed his brows and checked the surface of the panel. There was a – and a + sign. It showed that it was closer to the – sign, so Matt took the liberty and pressed the +. The pain in his left _everything_ slightly ebbed in a few seconds. He breathed a sigh of relief. He pressed it again, bringing the mark to the middle. The pain ebbed more. You let out a quiet noise and when he looked at you, you just turned your head to the right side, facing him, but you were still asleep. Matt finally smiled a bit.

"Don't worry", he muttered to you, "you're not alone. And I'll make the pain go away."

A few minutes later Kate walked back in and stopped near your bed. At first, she didn't say anything, just observed Matt instead of you. She's been here herself when they brought you in here; not saying anything but silently wondering why did you basically committed suicide for Bing. Unless of course you were Matt's new girlfriend, which you promptly denied.

"Who is she?"

She couldn't help the question really, and Matt let out a tired sigh. He was still aching, but it was much better than when he woke up. He couldn't believe he had to administrate the morphine levels to let you have a proper rest. It should be the doctors' work.

"She's Rogue", Matt replied quietly and didn't even look up at Kate.

"Is she your…"

"No."

Kate paused. Then furrowed her brows and tried to understand what was going on.

"Then why?" Kate waited for an answer which didn't come. Observing him, she tried to find out what her ex was thinking and feeling. "Do you love her?"

Matt remained silent.


	23. T O U C H

**Chapter twenty-three**

**__________**

**T O U C H**

 

Eventually he brought in a chair for himself where he sat for the next fifteen hours, making it a total thirty-five hours of you being unconscious.

Fifteen hours during which, you did not wake up.

Doctors came and went and checked up on you, told him to leave – which he promptly denied –, then left with a sigh, leaving him there with his own thoughts and the sight of your broken body. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, and he wouldn't _move_ , no matter how many people told him it was _'useless'_ to wait because they'd tell him if you woke up anyway.

 **No.** He wanted to be here when that happened. He **had to** be there. He _owed_ you that much.

He was dozing off right there on the chair, near your right side, where you turned your head hours ago. Your eyes slowly opened up, and you only saw the blurry outlines of everything. Swallowing – your throat was very dry –, you blinked a few times, your lashes moving very slowly, trying to take in the white splotch which was right next to you in the dimly lit room. You swallowed again as the image slowly cleared out as you kept blinking, your lips forming a trembling smile.

**_He_ ** _was there with you._

Then your brain started to process what you eyes saw.

 **This idiot was sitting there on a totally uncomfortable chair and he was _asleep_.** Who knew for how long he'd been there? He had hospital clothes on and had his arms crossed, his head hanging down. He must've been exhausted, why didn't he go to a proper bed?

You blinked slowly, then attempted to speak, your voice was husky from not using it at all for a really long time.

"M-Matt."

He immediately looked up at you, even if he looked totally confused. You had to giggle a bit at his expression. Very little bit. Then you moaned in pain. Giggling hurt. He stood up and shifted closer.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

You blinked at him slowly. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was a mess. For how long have you been out? And for how long he refused to take care of himself? And why the Hell did it matter to you?!

"Bing?" You muttered.

Now you heard the steady beeps coming from one of the machines. When you asked your question, it sounded like the beeps came more frequently. You were nervous about the answer. Did he make it safely? _Please, whatever is sacred and holy, just let him be safe!_

Matt felt it again, the same when you looked so worried as Bing was prepared for the jump. The fact that your first question was about his son made him feel turn into jelly inside; just how much cared about Bing made him respect and appreciate you in his life even more.

"He's okay", he replied calmly and you visibly relaxed against your pillows. Matt slowly smiled at you and shifted closer to your bed, sitting on the edge of it. Both of you noticed that the machine which was signaling your heartbeat beeped just a little bit faster. You blushed, and that gave a reason to him to smile wider… which made your heartbeat a little faster again. _Damn. Stupid machine._ "You've been out for a very long time", he said quietly, "they thought you might not come back."

You blinked tiredly. Breathing hurt; and taking a big breath to talk hurt even more. So you tried to keep it short.

"Why wouldn't I… come back?" You struggled a little to push the words through your teeth.

"What do you mean?" Matt asked.

He felt the same pain as you did, but he didn't tell you to stop talking, because he _terribly_ missed your voice and he _terribly_ missed the way you looked at him, and he felt _so_ miserable and alone until now but things finally started to look up… so he just let it hurt.

"I want to… listen to the songs… you'll write."

He still was smiling when you noticed something was different about his gaze. And then you realised he had tears gathering in his eyes. You groaned. It couldn't be that he'd start to be _emotional_ , right? It was always you who cried around him, it shouldn't be the other way around. Your awakening and reaction wouldn't have such an effect on him. But he had a lot of time to think. And he replayed every damned conversation, every time he had to battle with you and he would've been lying if he said he could imagine his days without you.

"Nah… Matt. _Don't_." You quietly begged.

"Don't what?" He asked, chuckling quietly and sniffling. It was hard to control himself. He started to believe it really was useless to wait for you to return from wherever you went. After all, you really wanted to leave. Even if he tried his best to keep you here. "I'm just happy."

"Don't… cry. It's going to… make me cry… too."

Matt glanced down and looked at your hand, then he finally gathered the courage and touched it… giggling to himself when he heard how your pulse became crazy and how displeased your grunt was.

"Can't we… switch that… off??" You whined and he shook his head, still looking at your hands where they touched, his own heart going crazy in unison with yours.

"No."

He gently moved your fingers and entwined them with his; your right hand angling down, his own right up. The beeps became even crazier, and he himself felt like this was _right_ , this was **good** , this was… he'd never felt anything like this before. It felt otherworldly. He rubbed your hand with his thumb. Interestingly, he felt all sorts of strange feelings running down his spine and warming him up from the inside out, making him lightheaded and fuzzy as if he was drunk. He just touched and held your hand. And it felt _impossibly_ amazing, making him blush just as it made you blush as well.

"Why?" You whined as you felt the exact same things as he did.

He glanced in your eyes, his brilliant blue orbs gentle, and you blushed up to your ears. This in itself wouldn't be so unusual and noticeable but the pillow was white around your face and it really stood out now. He chuckled quietly.

"Because I want to hear that your heart beats."

 _How it beats for me,_ he added in thought.

You kept studying his face without saying a word, feeling like the entire universe was within your hands; it gave you power and it made you feel weak at the same time. It was everything in those moments and it was so powerful that you seriously had your doubts that you'd _ever_ let his bloody hand go. This was _impossible_. You never felt anything like this and you never saw this happen on the big screen or read about it like this in books. This was an entire new level between you two, one which probably was completely, totally unique.

But why, and how?

"I should probably tell the doctors that you're awake", he said quietly.

For some reason his tone sounded at least ten times softer than usual, and he was also talking slower. His thumb stroked the side of your little finger. ~~And you started to melt.~~

"No", you mumbled. "Not yet. Please."

He smiled at you, quickening your heartbeat again. You angrily looked at the quickly beeping machine and he laughed quietly.

"Okay. A bit later."

This resulted in you two staying like that for solid thirty minutes, not saying anything else, totally mesmerized by the feelings you both tried to decipher – to no avail – when a nurse walked in and gasped.

And that severed your connection in a second. You both moved at the same time, pulling your hands away from the other's, and Matt clumsily stood up.

"Why didn't you tell us she's awake, Mr Bellamy??" The nurse scolded the singer who ran a nervous hand in his hair.

"I just… she just woke up. I wanted to—"

The nurse pushed a button next to your bed and you moaned when three doctors flooded the room five minutes later. You didn't want this. They destroyed those calm minutes you've spent with him and it made you nervous and slightly angry. Matt sensed your anxiety building up; until now, ever since you woke up you were fine – apart from the obvious pains –, he knew, he felt, but now the chest pain was back and he was sent out and… _he refused._ He'd not leaving you alone. He _promised_. The doctors asked you questions and you tried to answer them without exploding in pain and he stood near the door where the nurse pushed him, his face distorting with mixed emotions – desperation and anger and hurt.

Then he couldn't take it anymore.

**"ENOUGH!!"**

The three doctors and the nurse turned to stare at him and he found himself breathing heavily.

"Mr Bellamy?" One of the doctors asked with furrowed brows.

"She needs to rest. You're making her feel horrible."

"Excuse me", said another doctor, "we know perf—"

"No, you don't know", he snapped back at once. "Get out."

"But we—"

 **"GET! OUT!"** He opened the door and motioned to them with a wide gesture of his hand. "One can stay. Not more."

"Why I nev—"

**"NOW!"**

All four of them exchanged looks and murmured words like 'I can't believe this', 'the audacity', 'how dares he', but then the nurse and two doctors finally left the room. You didn't realise until then that you were clenching the sheet tightly in your hand, and now that there was only him and one unknown man – doctor, but still an unknown man – you relaxed somewhat. Matt moved to the chair he brought in and sat down with a grumpy expression and watched what the doctor was doing around you.

And you couldn't help but feel relieved he was there.


End file.
